Not too long ago someone told me that they quite liked looking at my spiders, but what really caught their attention in my photos was the state of my house. I laughed this off, but secretly I squirmed with shame. I’ve not been living here too long, and all the scuffing and scratching and flakey paintwork really can’t be blamed on me. That’s what I tell myself everytime I take a photo and see the tattyness of the background.

Take this shot, for example. All I could see was the eight-legged shuttlebus in the foreground when I set my camera on the ground. But then when scrolling through the images after moving them to my laptop my eye is drawn to the fluff, the scratches, the scuffs and marks which make this photo look so much scarier.

But, I’m sorry to tell you, its all a fake. All this is pure construction added to the each indoor photo to make my flat look more decrepit, to give it that extra creepy haunted-house feeling. In reality I live in a white marble palace kept spotless at all times by a crack team of dedicated, beautiful ladies and gentlemen with cleaning products, feather dusters and OCD. Every photograph I take looks far too sterile, like they’re stock photos taken in a zoo or science lab. To make them appear like a normal, nay, shabby house I have to put each frame through a filter, using an app called Instagrim. It makes my shiny home look like a shithole. I think you’ll agree that it’s working quite well.

Which brings me to the kitchen. I emptied the bin, moved it out from the corner and watched this fella look up at me, wondering where his roof had gone. With a nice flat surface to put the camera on, I thought I’d go for a profile view.

Scaryness: 5. It’s not too large, but is quite fat. Which makes it a bit scarier. But only a 4, I think. I’ve added an extra scaryness point for the angle my skirting board juts up away from the floor. Who the hell put that in? Have they not heard of a spirit level?