November 7, 2010. Sunday.
Situation: Work all day today and, because we’re on standard time again, it is dark when I get home. Moi suggests that I could don her headlamp and still take Mway for a walk, as indeed I did not too long ago. But I am tired from my late job last night, and I pretend that option does not exist, recalling also to myself that last winter I regularly didn’t take Mway for a walk on dark Sunday nights. She and the Boy, visiting from NYC, apparently took Mway for a long walk earlier today; Moi suggests that she could give me a report of that walk, but I don’t feel like listening and bothering to write it down – not tonight. I still have to take the garbage down, and because there are puddles in the lane, I have to put on my boots as well as wear the headlamp. When I come back inside the house, Mway watches me intensely as I take off my jacket, remove one boot, then the other. “Poor tiny Mway,” Moi remarks.
7 comments:
Okay, I suppose that’s better, though I only expected you to stack the papers, not clear them entirely out of sight, and I’m a little worried about where you might have stuffed them. Also, I’m getting concerned about all the paper you’re using. I’m giving you scrap paper as much as possible, but I’m running out of that and may soon have to give you new paper, which does not come cheap. You wouldn’t be able to write smaller, would you?
I’m not writing a “cheap” novel. MM.
Are you sure you’re writing a novel at all? Your first chapter you say is 56 pages, but some of these pages have only one letter on them. That reduces the word count considerably, I’d say. Perhaps what you’re writing is only a novella, between 17,500 and 40,000 words. Or maybe only a novelette, between 7,500 and 17,500 words. Or maybe it’s even smaller than that. Just a short story or a prose poem.
HOT MISTRESS SIGHTING!!
Yepper it was this morning I saw it must be your wife throwing a stick for your pup there and she was fooling the dog by pretending to throw it off in one direction then after the dog runs off throwing it in the opposite direction and it wasn’t too hard for me to imagine you know me sitting on your swing there and your wife calling me in for supper and when I don’t come in her coming out into the yard with that there stick and whacking me on my little behind and yelling and telling me to go up to my room and following me with that stick and when I lay down on the bed whacking me on the behind again then telling me to pull down my pants so my bare cheekies show and whacking me again so I feel that hot stick stingy and dirty hear her hard breathing her dark eyebrows and red lips twisting this was a thought I could carry in my head for a couple hours to think a month ago about I couldn’t see into your yard there but now with the leaves off the trees as plain as day looking forward to the missus in the yard again soon.
What the McFuck? This is not me, Gregor, but yet another McNeighbor, sticking his nosy sight into our yard! Although I shouldn’t have to worry my little head about it right now (I’m already disturbed by your suggestions that what I’m writing is not a novel), let me out the door, and I will inform this intruder in no uncertain terms that we do not countenance such roving eyes on our property! MM.
I’m sure this is not another McNeighbor but the same as before, trying to pretend he’s someone else, a native of the area speaking somewhat in our local dialect. But his disguise is pretty transparent. A “local” writing something would not sound so flagrantly colloquial. Yes, I’m going to let you out the door, here now at night time – and let you bark out your disgust.
Anybody there? If I make an apology here, you won’t sick your dog on me, will you? I try not to look out the back window anymore. Besides the leaves are out on the trees again, and I can’t see into your yard. And you know I never step into our own. Once a week, the brother-in-law zips around on the lawn tractor. I hardly go anywhere these days when I’m not working. Very little to see anymore, especially indoors. Once in a while I sit in the car near the entrance of the mall, or I go over to sit in the courthouse park in “Scumbury.” Bound to see something there sometimes, especially among those sloozies involved in the court system. Otherwise I spend my time on the computer, mostly on youtube. Lots to see there. It’s incredible, here we are next door neighbors, and the only place we’ve ever met is online. I wouldn’t know who you are but someone in the development mentioned your name and said you were a musician. “Those people in the house in the trees.” I googled your name and found your musician’s website and your blog. I can’t say I’ve read every word of it, but I’ve read a lot. I feel real bad about my intrusions. You really do have a wonderful wife and an amazing dog. Peace be with you, Your McFuckin’ McNeighbor.
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