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Write what you know…

I’m going to dig deep for the next one…I must have been maybe 5 or 6 the first time I went to Coney Island, and the original Steeplechase heritage was still very much in evidence back then.

There was something about that face…the Steeplechase face…that I found very unsettling.

The narrow eyes, and that grin that went on forever, as though it was looking at a particularly tasty child sized morsel.

That face became the face of the thing in the closet, the subtle noises in the room and under the bed at night…

The face of my own personal Bogeyman. Mine had teeth that were much sharper in that never ending, evil smile.

And that is the concept to capture here. Everyone has their own personal Bogeyman. Yours looks nothing at all like mine, nor does his or hers. for that matter.

So, imagine a village being terrorized by something that appears different to everyone who sees it, because to them, it is their own Bogeyman…

Sweet dreams…

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