One of the most terrifying concepts was captured in Dr. James' 'Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come To You, My Lad' when the very bedclothes themselves shaped into a ghost-demon. This is because of the sheer betrayal of where one has to be most safe. [ Also I read, in one of those dubious old collections of real-life ghosts *, of it actually happening in a New York hotel --- which would make one's choice of room a matter of importance in retrospect. ]
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I imagine one's food forming into new life would be a near equal shock.
