When I was little, I was afraid to go into the basement.
It was a dark and scary place, with this big metal monster in the middle, with all these huge, thick arms reaching out in every direction, disappearing into the ceiling, going who knows where.
It was the old, old furnace, of course. It made a lot of noise and seemed to turn on whenever I started down the stairs. The loud noise would make me jump.
I used to feel bad about that, until I found out it made everyone jump.
Since then, though, I’ve always felt there was something dark and creepy about basements. I mean, that’s where they put the crazy people in those horror movies, right?

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