There is a lamp to my left on the desk in front of me.
In its base is some kind of music box thingy. It has a little crank you can wind to give it life.
It has sat dormant for years.
At precisely 10:46 a.m. as I sat here writing about The Big Six, it suddenly started playing. In the tinny, weird, horror movie tone that chills your bones.
It did indeed chill my bones.
Played for about ten seconds and stopped.
Could portend disaster; could be a twisted celebration of my winning of the lottery.
I root for the latter.
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