Circa 1996

The first time I’d ever witnessed a Fools Day prank, was when I was about eight years old.  My uncle came to the house looking morose.  He grabbed a dishcloth and held it over his mouth; grinning behind it.

He came to tell us that a family member had landed in the hospital – a serious injury. He couldn’t maintain the prank for long. He’d probably felt guilt from the momentary hysterics he’d created.

It was no surprise then that at fourteen-years-old my thought process went straight to something dark and horrific to have some Fools Day “fun.”

I went in to the cold room in our basement and dug around.

The axe looked like a great place to start.

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