From over here, Edie says:
I would like to recommend "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. It has to be my favorite short story... no matter how many times I read it it still gives me the chills!
To which Miette replies: your wish, my command, and about those chills, have you ever tried to read it aloud? It's utterly skin-crawling. Of course, I've already read the Virginia Woolf story with a similar (though not -quite- as resplendent with crawling-skin heebies) narrative structure.
I was just the other day staring at the ceiling in my own bedroom, and could've sworn it was comprised really of thousands of cats, trying to escape the two-dee flatlands of the ceiling. And while at the time I attributed that vision to... the detritus of some decisions of my youth ... given the evidence put forth by Woolf and Gilman, I'm in pretty good company for textured wall hallucinations. Anyone else ever stare at their walls until they go stereoscopic?