I was reading Everything’s Eventual by Stephen King last month. (Sorry, delayed reaction ito.) This book is a collection of 14 short stories from the master of dark tales. “Autopsy Room No. 4” and “That Feeling, You Could Only Say It in French” were surreal, and “The Road Virus Heads North” and “1408” were absolutely spine-tingling. I couldn’t stop reading the damn book even if I was scared shitless already. I told Andie that it made my heart go thudthudthud and my hands shake. Sometimes I just had to put the book down and take deep breaths to calm my nerves. But I just couldn’t put it away. The stories won’t let me. I’d rather read the book to the very end and know what King had in mind for each story, than let my overactive imagination concoct its own ending. *sigh* I wish I had half of King’s knack for storytelling.