There has been a noise complaint, I lean in my doorway smoking a cigarette, its humid and drizzling, the kind of sticky weather where you feel dirty all day long- above the clouds are black and menacing the birds are silent, hard rain will come soon.
"Ma'am, I just need to take down some information," the officer says to me. I admire how seriously he is taking this situation and himself it must be wonderful to know your place in the world.
"What do you do?" he asks, all business with his pad flipped open, the corpses of a thousand dead crickets beneath his heavy boots.
'I write, I tell him, " Really?" He seems interested, impressed even, "What do you write about, do your support yourself," I stop him by putting my hand up: "I didn't say I was any good." The rain along with the wind picks up. He goes back to business; " Someone has had their television turned up very loud, telemundo, is the channel that was mentioned in the report..................
Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Peep hole
There is a knock at my door, I standing semi-dressed eyeing a man I have never seen before through my peep hole.
"Yeah," I say, running my toes along the grit of my cheap parquet floor, when was the last time I swept I wonder.
"Ma'am, I want to thank you for leaving your television on," he says, what the hell is this guy talking about? Through the peep hole I see he holds his hat in his hand, rain is dripping from the upper floor eves, my view of the world through the peep hole has a distorted quality, like the fish lens effect in Heath ledger's last movie, I like it.
"My T.V's not on sir," I explain, more interested in the nifty distortion of the peep hole, " I heard voices, he states flatly:
"I do not understand why you are thanking me for having my television on," this conversation is decidedly strange;
"I just moved in" he tells me, "Oh," I say to him, "the walls are very thin, you will get use to it in time, we all do," "but I heard voices" he tells me- AGAIN: he has officially annoyed me.
"Maybe your a schizophrenic," I suggest, through the peep hole I can see this upsets him, I don't care. I go into the bedroom and turn my television to telemundo cranking the volume full blast, than I sit at my desk and listen to my tomahawk play list loudly, while I write- I wish I was drunk.
"Yeah," I say, running my toes along the grit of my cheap parquet floor, when was the last time I swept I wonder.
"Ma'am, I want to thank you for leaving your television on," he says, what the hell is this guy talking about? Through the peep hole I see he holds his hat in his hand, rain is dripping from the upper floor eves, my view of the world through the peep hole has a distorted quality, like the fish lens effect in Heath ledger's last movie, I like it.
"My T.V's not on sir," I explain, more interested in the nifty distortion of the peep hole, " I heard voices, he states flatly:
"I do not understand why you are thanking me for having my television on," this conversation is decidedly strange;
"I just moved in" he tells me, "Oh," I say to him, "the walls are very thin, you will get use to it in time, we all do," "but I heard voices" he tells me- AGAIN: he has officially annoyed me.
"Maybe your a schizophrenic," I suggest, through the peep hole I can see this upsets him, I don't care. I go into the bedroom and turn my television to telemundo cranking the volume full blast, than I sit at my desk and listen to my tomahawk play list loudly, while I write- I wish I was drunk.
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