First 30 Minutes: 500 Words a Day Fiction – Day 6
When you walk out the front door so early like that, you can’t be sure what you’re going to see. There are, of course, the old-timers that are up reading the paper and there are, of course, the young type A over-achievers out for a run or doing their Pilates program in the living room, but the people like me, the ones that just like to try and have 30 minutes in the whole goddamn day that are personal, well, we have to wake up this early and walk around and hope we see something unique.
You can see raccoons going through trash and that’s pretty cool the first time because they don’t care too much about you and that’s good to know. Sometimes you can make an animal out to be some kind of monster if you’ve never seen it face to face. But after a time or two the raccoon is not in the least bit exciting, mostly because you can be sure they are making a mess of something that is yours.
The other day I got whacked in the shoulder by the flying morning paper. Those kids don’t even look before they toss. I didn’t get so much as a, “Sorry, Sir.” But how many times in your life do you get hit by the paper? Not many. That gave me a few minutes thinking about things like they are different.
But if I’m being honest, it’s because some mornings I see her. She’ll be there, at 357 Tennessee Ln in the window doing some stretches. And it’s true I take my time when I pass her house and I’ve nearly mastered this form of side stare that makes my interest almost unrecognizable. She is a real beauty and her legs can go so very far over her head. Now it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman and at my age you’re happy if you feel anything down there so when I do catch her doing her stretches it’s quite a day.
I’ve got my iPod, usually. I would never pay for something like that but my kids got it for me last Christmas. And I have to be honest, when I’m walking around the neighborhood and it’s still dark and you can’t even hear the birds yet, listening to music makes it all so beautiful.
When I listen to the piano I imagine going door to door and killing the people inside. Or walking slowly down the street after my wife has just died in my arms. If it’s the electric guitar then I’m young and I’m running with my hair long and a headband to keep it from my eyes. All the scenes change when the song does.
If you happen to be up early enough and you see me walking and my lips are moving, I’m not yet crazy I’m just trying to create some moments that belong to me. If I have nothing else that is mine for the rest of the day then I want to make these 30 minutes count.
