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“I ended up squeezing myself into a small gardening hut
in some random backyard. I just sat in there, scared like
you wouldn’t believe, wondering how long I could stay
hidden before some horrible thing or another prompted me
to leave. Do you know that I stayed in there for two weeks?
Well, at least it seemed like a couple weeks. Time was a
tricky thing during The Darkness. I never got hungry, and
I never had to powder my nose, so to speak. The Darkness
was a wonderfully immaculate enterprise, at least as far as
the more unpleasant requirements of the human body were
concerned—another one of those dampened technicalities I
mentioned before. I should also mention that sleeping was
all but impossible, so all I could do to pass the time was
hum old show tunes and talk to myself. At one point, I began
to sing a funny little song. It was a really odd ditty, full of
all kinds of cut-up and pasted-together rhymes and songs
I’d heard. I don’t know where it came from, but the more I
sang it, the braver I became. Just when I had worked up the
courage to leave, a small piece of paper was slid through the
crack in the wooden door. All it said was Louder, please. I
decided that it might be wise to wait a bit before leaving,
song or not.
“When I finally felt safe again, I crept slowly from the
shack and skulked around the edge of the yard, on the
lookout for people wearing familiar footwear or smiling like
psychopaths. I could see that the line of people had stretched
into nearby streets, all of them clutching their tickets and
grinning. I have to admit that I was pretty curious about the
movie showing inside the abandoned house. I eventually
decided that I needed a change of scenery, so I carefully
made my way through side streets and parking lots until I
was closer to the downtown area, where I hoped to encounter
sane individuals. I had no idea what a tall order that was.
“When I arrived at the center of the city, I encountered a
throng of people carrying around metal fittings and various
other mechanical odds and ends. This time, I was a bit more
138 | Mark Anzalone