It is. Look down now, do you see the trace marks of ghost fingers? Your carpet is haunted, and I don’t know what you expect me to do about it. You called us in and here we are! So what do we do now, dear?
Don’t ask me about this, I’ve just got back from school at night. Floodlights everywhere outside, but they turn the lights off and the radiators on indoors. If you put your ear to the keyhole, you can hear the new classes starting. The register is still in alphabetical order, but it’s not the alphabet you learned, the man from the AUSTRALIA committee upgraded our register last autumn and I only know the Imperial alphabet with 39 letters. It’s alright because once, I found a skull in the road and brought him in for show and tell: I can’t tell you what he showed, but I can show you what he told.
This carpet is SO haunted too. The one in the pharmacy, the grey carpet of doom that they have to vacuum every night after 5:30, grown fat and pale with the wheezing and terror. Something is peeping around the non-brand nail varnish, and its eyes are WAY too big for such a small frame. You wanna talk to the dog though? He’s in back. It causes us some issues, having a dog pharmacist, we don’t like to talk about it, after what happened. He howls at the stars a bit much for my liking. Or perhaps he has a point: Watch Out! Miss Ingrid is going to get jealous at this rate! You remember her Uncle Sigrid? They never found him. Mind you, they never looked.
After dark in the playing fields, I found some playing cards, and a knife trap of the kind perfected by the Viet Cong. I was going to take it to the Head, but the craftsmanship was so exquisite that I didn’t want to ruin it, so I covered it over again. Kept the playing cards though. The Queen of Wands had a nice smile.
This carpet is haunted by the fear of smoking. Rag rugs are filled with anxiety I’m afraid, but I adore them. Utterly beautiful but gosh.