Sunday, March 18, 2012

View Through The Looking Glass

Through foggy consciousness I hear someones voice.  From outside, through the open bedroom window. Not close but not far away.  As consciousness elevates I hear a mans voice yelling something akin to "Bring back my dog" then some more stuff that does not make sense.

"Sounds like the neighbor" comes from my wife in a sleepy, groggy voice.

I rise from bed and glance at the clock. 2:45AM.  I roll out of bed and shuffle to the front room to peek out the window.  The neighbor is there. Outside at the end of his driveway.  Looking down the street.  He disappears into  the house and returns.  He gets into his girlfriends car and drives to the end of the street and stops.  He makes and odd 3/4 U-Turn and stops for a bit.  I see no sign of people about.  The car finishes a circle and stops again at the next corner.  He is about 500 feet away in the middle of the night not making sense at all.  The car moves again and disappears around the corner.

No signs of activity and I return to bed.... For 10 minutes... Until rousted by activity again.  Back to looking though the glass, between the blinds, lights off behind me. Perfect observer conditions.

I can see animated movement through the window.  Awkward movements.  Alcohol seems to be involved.  No signs of violence. Nothing too serious, back to bed.

I wake to a muffled "Thud" of sorts.  Then another. And voices but I can't make out the words.  I rise up again and try to focus on the clock over my wife's heaving breasts. Oh yea, the clock.  It is now 3:45AM.  I roll out of bed and shuffle to the front room taking my place behind the blinds.  Peering through my familiar slats, left adjusted perfectly to see out but not to be seen.  I hope.

The neighbor has opened his garage door and the light is on.  His punching bag is swinging back and forth.  A figure emerges from the garage and marches down the driveway.  A woman, fully dressed turns at the sidewalk and marches down the street into the darkness as well as one can march in that condition.

It has started to rain and there is some wind.  I can feel the cold through the double pane windows.  The sweet smell of rain enters my nostrils.  It is calm outside.  Just rain, a cold breeze and a woman staggering down the sidewalk wearing a small backpack and carrying a purse and another bag.

The woman uses all of the sidewalk as she walks away from us then passed the last streetlight and into the dark void I can not see into.  The neighbor watched her walk away for a bit then returned to his house.  I see him through the windows, swaying rather awkwardly. I focus on the light past the dark void.  If the woman passes in front of that light, I will know she did not turn at the first street that simply loops back to where she started.  She does not pass in front of the light.

I am not sure if I should call the police or if I should get dressed and drive down and offer the woman a ride.  The police could make things unnecessarily serious.  I did not observer anything worrisome.  It is kind of entertaining.  I am imagining the drunken conversation.  It can be funny listening to two drunk people arguing while imagining how much sense it makes in their drunken head and how little it sense it makes on the sober side of their drunkenness. Had she tried to drive away, I would have called the police.  That could not have ended well.  But she did not and I did not.

I decide I will wait a a bit more before deciding to find her and offer her a ride somewhere.  Then she emerged from the dark voice heading back this way.  She sways back and forth across the sidewalk and then sprints a short distance.  I wonder if she imagines herself an Olympic athlete sprinting towards a finish line.  Why sprint 10 steps at all?  This is why I observe the activities.

The woman marches up the driveway then opens the door and disappears.  She emerges through the window once again.  He emerges behind her.  I can only imagine what they think they are saying and what the words really sound like. They disappear again.  No signs of anything serious but who know what goes on behind windowless walls.

I return to sleep.  Images of different scenarios dance through my sleepy brain.  No continuity, just the brain organizing and cleaning up the garbage.  I dream I pick her up and take her to her home.  I help her inside.  She takes off her jacket and is not wearing a top.  Ah, this is going to get good!  She leaves the room to change.  I am running up a flight of stairs in a nearby housing complex.  About 40 steps.  I turn around and run down, then back up.  I am encouraging my wife to get her heart rate up.  We need aerobic exercise....

I guess my brain thinks the woman is now safe and I should lose weight.  That's how it always goes.

I rise again 5 hours later.  I turn on the instant espresso machine and fill it with water. I open the front blinds to let in the sunlight.  The woman's car is still parked on the street. I guess she was not in an all fired hurry to leave.  It could be she is still passed out.  I wonder if I will see the car again.

fictional facts of factual fiction.  Copyright 2012 by the author.

1 comment:

alienbody said...

The only thing I took from this is that you were looking at the boobies of another woman. ;-) Also, too...he is an endless source of entertainment, poor guy.