Sunday, December 24, 2017


At 3:00 AM I carry the doge downstairs for her final walk of the night. The streets are quiet and empty, and the LED Christmas lights of the cafe across the street blink in a mulitcolored shimmery sort of way.

Though it's been a while since I've thought of it, tonight I find myself with clenched fists, thinking about being mugged, and the empty streets seem more menacing.

As I'm coaxing the doge back up the front steps, a guy in an a tan slacks and a white polo shirt drives slowly by, the only car on the street, and I find myself strangely worried that someone will climb out of the car and mug me.
One year ago: Go Whistle
Two years ago: I Actually Did Do That, Though/
Three years ago: 12 Legs Toward Dreamland
Four years ago: I Just Seem Approachable, I Guess
Ten years ago: Mama Wants a Gun

No comments:

Post a Comment