Billy now shuffled down his upstairs hallway, knowing he was about to be kidnapped by a flying saucer. The hallway was zebra-striped with darkness and moonlight. The moonlight came into the hallway through doorways of the empty rooms of Billy's two children, children no more. They were gone forever. Billy was guided by dread and the lack of dread. Dread told him when to stop. Lack of it told him when to move again. He stopped.
He went into his daughter's room. Her drawers were dumped. Her closet was empty. Heaped in the middle of her room were all the possessions she could not take on a honeymoon. She had a Princess telephone extension all her own--on her windowsill. Its tiny night light stared at Billy. And then it rang.
Billy answered. There was a drunk on the other end. Billy could almost smell his breath--mustard gas and roses. It was a wrong number. Billy hung up. There was a soft drink bottle on the windowsill. Its label boasted that it contained no nourishment whatsoever.
This morning, I wouldn't have been surprised if I had been kidnapped by a flying saucer. Like Billy, I got up in the early morning. The house was sort of zebra-striped with darkness and the glow of the streetlight outside. I didn't really want to get out of bed after having a four-day weekend. Sleeping late, staying up late.
Anyway, Monday morning--a wind storm with 90-mile-per-hour winds. This morning, a blizzard. I could barely see the road in front of me. Followed a set of taillights into work, praying the whole way. I'm expecting either a dust bowl or tsunami tomorrow morning. Something Biblical. Or an alien abduction.
It has been a stressful day. At work, I was in a terrible mood. Dealing with the fact that my best friend no longer works with me. I hated everybody and everything for most of my shift. I hid it well, though. I just didn't want to be there. Felt angry and sorry for myself the entire time.
When I got home, I learned of another crisis. Someone close to me lost her job. Lots of crying and anger and fear and more crying. I am a fairly level-headed person, even if I'm a poet. And I have a very low bullshit factor. Therefore, people turn to me in times of trouble. I don't mind that. However, after my smashed car windows, uprooted pine tree, and less-than-optimal workday, I was drowning a little.
I am better now. I've had dinner (a meatball sub) and watched an episode of The Big Bang Theory. A dose of normal goes a long way to cure the crazies. Tomorrow will be another day of stress and anxiety. I work for a large healthcare system that is currently "downsizing." Translation: a lot of good people are getting fired.
But Saint Marty still has a job. That's something to be thankful for.