October 9, 2015.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #5:
I supine snoodled, swaddled in my mattressclothes, ready to tromble off to sandland with a fancy imagine in my main crane. But prior of slipping down Sleep Mountain, I eared the hootle of a janglebones, happy toothing in my window. "Shoo, janglebones," I sad asked, but janglebones sup sad asks for sunrise eggs and lickety I was pappling in tremblehouse, sheer, framming. Yet, the janglebones hootled no more, clockspins dialed, and in the sleep time even the hard graw of gooseflesh couldn't keep me from sandland...

...but far else than fancy imagines, Dreamish held naught but the gnashsmile and shiny vorpal of the janglebones, trailed me there, that there where I still am painjailed today, and ever and ever.