Day one was the most difficult. I logged my experience with an overbearing desire to capture the wit that I had often read in the words of some of my favorite authors. The doorbell rang and I shuddered. I looked in the mirror so as to capture a glimpse of who it was that would be demanding my attention should I choose to reveal myself. I saw outside through the nearby window a man that seemed absolutely uninteresting, absolutely mundane in every possible way. He patiently stood as he stared at the sky and then examined the ruddy exterior of my home.
I sneaked around to the back door, grabbed a fig newton from the kitchen counter en route and thought maybe I should just suck up to the fact that a minute amount of jib-jab with this stranger was probably easier than my tactic of avoidance.
The cat ran past me and I nearly toppled the vase that I had been repairing on the kitchen table.
The doorbell rang a second time. So did my telephone. I answered it and completely forgot about the front door. By the time the conversation was over, my visitor had left.
No comments:
Post a Comment