The trouble with imaginations, or mine in particular, is that my mind is captured by the fantasy world, by the what ifs and what would I have done questions. I think about the books I've read, the articles, the movies and shows I've watched and I find that it is easy for me to get wide eyed with fright.
If I watch too many zombie shows, I find myself looking for zombies. And when I'm looking for them, I find an inordinate amount of solitary figures, standing in empty parking lots, not moving but a slight sway back and forth. My husband, being rational, asked if the person was smoking. Zombie's do not smoke. One was, the others were just behaving spooky.
If I watch too many episodes of "Justified," I find that I can not look over at the hillbilly compound next to the trail I walk, for fear the reclusive inhabitants will see me and think I'm taking an inordinate amount of interest in their business. I have a fondness for apple pie moonshine, and I do not want to be constantly on my guard, waiting for the dreadful words, "It was already in the glass," signifying I've crossed the wrong person and will suffer a quick and painful death.
But this morning's imagination musings take the cake. I had just read a magazine article about the tragic and horrific exotic animals killed in Ohio a few months ago. I'm not a fan of zoos, and that 'animal farm' was so much worse than a zoo. As I was washing my hair (since the shower is where I do a lot of my thinking) I started thinking of what it must have been like to look outside and see a tiger in your field. Scary, to say the least. Or a bear! Frightening!
At that moment I heard the lumbering crashing noise that only a bear in my dining room could make.
Wide eyed with fright, once again. Darn you, imagination!!!
P.S. There was no bear, but my dogs were all looking suspiciously angelic.