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When I was a kid, I loved ghost stories. I was the proud owner of an Alfred Hitchcock’s vinyl record, “Ghost Stories for Young People” featuring him introducing his own short stories. I played that record over and over again on my red and yellow toy player. The lights would be turned off and I’d make a cave with my blankets and pillows. Armed with a flashlight, I’d place the needle on the record and listen to his stories. I always played it around Hallowe’en—one of my favourite holidays back then and not just for the candy, but because I believed in ghosts and witches and monsters.
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