Today finds me in Lake Charles, Louisiana. It is a deceptive place. The interstate tells that it is seven exits big. The skyline is full of tall buildings. My friend insists it is very small, though. "All those buildings," he says. "They're refineries." Apparently, Lake Charles is one of the countries largest collectors of natural gas.
It's also, like Florida, prone to bouts of apocalyptic weather. Which was nice, as it allowed me to finish The Graveyard Book during a particularly dark and stormy morning. You can read my review here.
Later, after the rain, a friend of the friend I'm staying with came over. We had hamburgers. I, being in a just finished a book mood, was rather distant and probably a bit unpolite, but then it occurred to me to ask this friend about graveyards in Lake Charles. He proceeded to get animated and told me about one graveyard that zapped the power from electronic devices. He demonstrated. "Outside, full charge." He walked through an imaginary entrance. "Inside, dead." And he repeated the scene for effect.
"I used to ghost hunt," he said. He doesn't like the show on sci-fi though. "There's an abandoned church here where I heard a little girl running and laughing."
I don't know if these things are true, readers, but my opinion of truth is very much like my opinion of tea. There are many different kinds and some are bitter and licoricey and some are too fruity, but, they are, generally, still tea.
Tomorrow, maybe, I will investigate.
If you do not hear from me, read The Graveyard Book. It's good, and on the off-chance I've fallen into a ghoul gate, you may find a way to rescue me.
Happy heroics, readers.