A week ago, my mother-in-law started reading The Exorcist.
After a few chapters, she looked horrified.
“This is the most evil book I’ve ever read!”
She was so convinced it was cursed that she couldn’t even finish it.
So she took the book to the beach, walked out onto a fishing pier, and threw it straight into the ocean.
I thought, “Well… that’s one way to deal with a scary book.”
A few days later, I bought another copy.
I ran it under the faucet, let it get nice and damp, and quietly placed it in the nightstand drawer beside her bed.
I haven’t said a word.
I’m just waiting for her to find it.
At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to Hell…
I’ve already got a reservation.
