Fear of Ceramic Garden Figurines
Every neighborhood has one of those houses, the frontlawn of which is covered with a multitude of cermaic figuirines, each frozen in its own hell of "cuteness." I don't know what compels such people to litter a perfectly good plot of land with these evil creatures. I've noticed that they are usually on the community watch for their subdivision. This is obviously a ploy to divert attention away from their sick obsession.
Dwarves are the worst. With their creepy little eyes and miniature appendages, they beckon me to come nearer and join them in their satanic world. I know they seek to destroy me, and I have kept far away from them and what I know to be their diabolic intentions.
Until that one fateful day. It was roughly a week ago that I drove by the most horrible anomoly in all of Garner--the Garden of the Dwarves--and stepped foot upon that accursed land. "Open to the Public" the wooden sign above the entrance pathway proclaimed. It might as well have read "Abondon all sanity all ye who enter here." I finally decided I would conquer my fear. I would go through the Garden of the Dwarves, I would laugh at all the cute juxtopositions some creative individual had placed the delightful creatures in, and I would leave unscatched. Oh--what a fool I was!
I was fine for the first minute or so for there were only a few dwarves and they were merry enough not to merit any major paranoia on my part. In fact, I almost cracked a smile. That's when I turned around to face a completely unexpected monstrosity. There was a small house--it almost came up to my knees. Inside there was a kitchen table and chairs, a stove, windows with red- and white-checkered curtains, and posters of the Disney movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. I gasped and shrunk back in--what else?--fear. My pace began to quicken. I wanted to leave this place. My foot hit something hard and sessile. I shouldn't have looked down, but it was too late. There was a miniature bench and a bearded troll seated on it. I swear his eyes were red--they shot daggers into my fragile soul. I started to run. I had to emancipate myself from this prison. As I ran, I saw flashing visions of dwarves, trolls, and gnomes encircle my head. There was the exit. I was in a full sprint at this point. Finally, I burst into daylight. The air felt purer out there in the open. I collapsed on the ground.
Staggering, I barely made it back to the car. As I drove home, I kept my eyes focused only the road ahead of me, making certain not to turn my head at strategic points--the house with the ceramic woodland animals, the one with the plastic lady watering the plants, the other with giant mushrooms made out of clay adorning the driveway. I made it home. I went to my room and shut the door. I hunkered down in my closet, rocking back and forth, and back and forth...mumbling....
"Dwarves bad...no....tiny, evil....dwarves.....NOOOO!!!"