There was no time for a movie last night, so I watched the first two episodes of Tales From The Crypt. I've not seen a lot of the HBO series, but I've seen the first batch of episodes at least a half dozen times, so the surprises were no longer to be found, but it was still a comforting experience.
I'm currently reading 2oth Century Ghosts, a collection of short stories by Joe Hill. I've read one story before bed each of the last two nights, and it's been wonderful so far. The first night(actually just after midnight, so technically the 1st of October) I read Best New Horror, which was a fun, nasty little jolt of exhilarating creepiness. And last night I continued on with the title story, 20th Century Ghost, about the ghost of a young woman who haunts an old theater. Ghost stories are, by nature, melancholic, and I'm a sucker for stories that embrace that aspect. There's something innately heartbreaking and lonely about a spirit stuck reliving some momentous aspect of it's life. Like a 37 year old still wearing his high school letterman jacket. It may be the fact that I'm really excited for Halloween this year, or that I'm reading these short stories in bed past midnight, when all the lights are off, except the lamp by my bed, and everyone but me is asleep, but 20th Century Ghost really hit me pretty hard. Not scary, but a little bit wistful, and a little bit creepy. I read the final few paragraphs multiple times, and it literally gave me chills.