On Halloween, some friends and I went on a haunted Salt Lake City bus tour. Halfway through the tour, Marko began to didge, and a low, visceral rumble crept through our company. Murmurs across the bus were under-the-breath at first, but they spread from neighbor to neighbor as everyone dropped dead quiet: “Oh my gosh! Do you hear that? What IS that?!”
A spooky soundtrack had accompanied our journey all along, but this was new and deliciously unnerving for those who’d never heard it before. Soon everyone was exclaiming aloud and I burst out in a characteristic cackle. At last, the tour guide shouted, “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?” but Marko, being the imp that he is, had stopped. It was then that I thought to capture the moment, but he had done with his chicanery. So here’s Marko’s chest.