Wednesday, October 14, 2009

What being home alone really feels like

(when you're a fatalist).

I'm sitting here, waiting for my dinner to cook, listening to the bump and knock of my very old house, and trying to stay rational.

It's not working out so swell.

Our refrigerator is making a loud . . . what sound does a fridge make when it's louder than a hum or a whir? Truthfully, it sounds like a growl to me. It's louder today than it was yesterday; where do you draw the line between normal and fire hazard?

The animals are all antsy. Georgie is wandering around aimlessly, looking for trouble. I took down the baby gates and picked up the cat food bowls; he is in seventh heaven looking for the random crumbs buried in the shag carpet. At least it's keeping him entertained. The cats are confused by the gates being moved, and they're drifting in and out of the room like shadows. Restless, uneasy shadows.

It's not that everyone is just bored from being home alone and cooped up inside all day. Something just cracked against the glass of our nook window. Georgie went to investigate.

I don't think it was just the house settling. It feels like there are eyes watching me.

Big farm machinery is roaring up and down our road. It sounds like a plane is crashing right next to our house. The yellow worklights on the trucks are flashing and making funny shadows on the walls. The man that leases our land is sowing the soybeans (or whatever you call it) and I'm sure his employees are all upstanding citizens. I'm sure he does a thorough background check on every farmhand within his employ, and that none of them have criminal records.

The dog just ran into the flimsy card table I had set up while I was painting the other day, and almost knocked it over. He scared himself and darted away like a werewolf was looking at him between the legs. My stomach feels empty and hollow . . . it's so quiet I can hear the clock ticking in the other room. Not just the clock, but other anonymous creaking and tapping.

Neither of the dogs went to the bathroom when they were out earlier. So I'm going to have to take them out again. In the cold. In the dark.

I'll do it in a minute.

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