As soon as sleep finally arrives, I find my psyche plagued by nightmares of terrifying vividness—10,000 horses drowning in pus; crimson-eyed children feasting on the head of King Richard II; a smiling, dagger-toothed worm wriggling in viscous slime.
No, that's cool; I wasn't planning on sleeping tonight anyway.
Seriously, though, pretty hilarious/spot-on Lovecraft pastiche, that.
Whenever I hear about Kate, the first thing that always comes to mind is that she had a poster of him on her wall before they met. That nugget of trivia just never gets old.