This really is how I think.
(comicgenesis link to the same strip here)
The fact that I occasionally go, "Damn, I coulda had a kid old enough to do this," means two things. One, I'm old. Two, any potential children I haven't had got off LUCKY. Seriously, because they'd hate the weird floating eyes in the darkness as much as The Puppy and I do, I'm telling you.
The cracking stick sounds are pretty freaky, too.
There's still one in the area. It sits on the neighbor's porch, which is about level with the top of our fence, and it stares. The staring doesn't bother me as much as when I look to make sure it's there and IT ISN'T.
It's like the end of Halloween the 13th on Elm Street, when the body disappears.
Your ad could be here, right now.