As a kid, I was petrified to go into the basement because of the oil furnace.
I knew what the oil furnace was, and I knew that it wasn’t going to hurt me.
I also knew that when it got dark and there wasn’t any light coming in through the basement transom windows, the oil furnace was terrifying. I could see the glow of the burning coal through the vents in the door. It looked love a hideous smile and I could imagine the maw of the oil furnace opening up and swallowing me. There were two small hampers at the top of the coal oil furnace, that were meant to control the amount of air that got into the burn chamber. At evening, I would look at them and that pressing smile, and it was the worst monster I could imagine. I saw the pressing head of a fire breathing dragon, waiting to rear up and devour me. My dad told myself and others I had an overactive imagination and I had to get over it. Even now, when I am an adult, I have an uncommon feeling if I need to go into that basement. Dad left the modern home to myself and others and the outdated coal oil furnace is still down there. The basement has been turned into a playroom and I seem to be the only one that gets an eerie feeling when I looked at the oil furnace. When evening falls, I am constantly checking on the kids to make sure they are all right. Maybe the child inside is still waiting for the dragon oil furnace to come alive, but this time it is our children that are going to be eaten.