Express elevator to the ninth floor of a department store, carrying Miss Marsha White on a most prosaic, ordinary, run-of-the-mill errand.
Miss Marsha White on the ninth floor, specialty department, looking for a gold thimble. The odds are that she’ll find it - but there are even better odds that she’ll find something else, because this isn’t just a department store. This happens to be the Twilight Zone.
Eleanor looked up, surprised; the little girl was sliding back in her chair, sullenly refusing her milk, while her father frowned and her brother giggled and her mother said calmly, ‘She wants her cup of stars.’
Indeed yes, Eleanor thought; indeed, so do I; a cup of stars, of course.
‘Her little cup,’ the mother was explaining, smiling apologetically at the waitress, who was thunderstruck at the thought that the mill’s good country milk was not rich enough for the little girl. ‘It has stars in the bottom, and she always drinks her milk from it at home. She calls it her cup of stars because she can see the stars while she drinks her milk.’ The waitress nodded, unconvinced, and the mother told the little girl, ‘You’ll have your milk from your cup of stars tonight when we get home. But just for now, just to be a very good little girl, will you take a little milk from this glass?’
Don’t do it, Eleanor told the little girl; insist on your cup of stars; once they have trapped you into being like everyone else you will never see your cup of stars again; don’t do it; and the little girl glanced at her, and smiled a little subtle, dimpling, wholly comprehending smile, and shook her head stubbornly at the glass. Brave girl, Eleanor thought; wise, brave girl.
“Number Twelve Looks Just Like You,” The Twilight Zone (1964)
In the near future, crossing into adulthood means undergoing a process called “the Transformation,” a total physical, mental and emotional metamorphosis into one of a dozen prototypes, for the purpose of social harmony. Marilyn Cuberle likes herself just the way she is: conventionally unattractive, intellectually curious, and wholly different. Convinced the Transformation will rob her not only of her body but of her love of learning, Marilyn, completely alone, struggles to resist intense pressure from her family and friends.
Billy’s grandmother, whose affection for her grandson borders on the unhealthy and obsessive, gives him a toy telephone as a birthday gift just before she dies. After her death, Billy uses the telephone to pretend to speak to Grandma. Only, as it turns out, Grandma’s actually on the other end of the line, and she’s telling Billy that she wants him to kill himself and join her.
The Haunting of Hill House Shirley Jackson. New York: Viking Press, 1959.
First edition / First printing, Octavo, Hardcover. A fine copy in a fine dust jacket.
Considered one of the finest literary ghost stories ever published. Basis for two film adapations titled “The Haunting” - the 1963 Robert Wise film starring Julie Harris and Claire Bloom, and the 1999 film starring Liam Neeson, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Owen WIlson, Bruce Dern and Lili Taylor.
One of my favorite books. “Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
Quiet Please, “The Thing on the Fourble Board,” 1948: An oil field worker drills a little too deep and brings up something hungry that should’ve stayed buried.
I’m a big fan of old time radio, especially horror OTR, and this is probably the scariest thing I’ve ever heard out of this genre. Seriously, the last five minutes of this will FREAK YOU THE FUCK OUT. Do yourself a favor and listen to the whole thing (two parts on YouTube).
