Well here it is a third of the way into the month of March and I get my “Masters of Macabre” competition packet. My mind’s spinning dozens of twisted phobias I can turn into a fantastic piece of prose.
Now I’m not one to say the Fates like to twiddle with me, but when the e-mail with my listed items starts out with, “Henry- Hey, I don’t choose the items… I do it by roll of the dice, just like any self-respecting gamer,” you know the rest of the message is going to be interesting.
So what’s my horrible phobia I have to deal with? They were actually “kind” enough (can you smell the sarcasm, here, folks?) to offer me my choice from four along the same topic. Sex phobias, ladies and gentlemen, I get to write a horror story having to do with sex phobias.
Somewhere in the distance there’s a sixty-year-old chainsaw wielding virgin with self-denial issues just laughing her fool head off.