The death of a moon cowboy

I am a somewhat-youth with ideas and thoughts and too many dreams that sometimes overflow as these little dribblings from my fingertips. I guess you can try to collect and capture them.


Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Southern-bound trickery: Watcher in the sky

That long crack on the ceiling always shook me. Each morning I awoke, broke the cemented encrustment that slept my eyelids against one another, and there it was, the first thing seeking my attention. At times I would wonder aloud, 'How long have existed?' or, 'How many lives have you silently eavesdropped into?' or, 'What spawned you?' I would wait in vain for answers. Such impudence, not even a hint of a response! He was the lone Watcher, an omnipresent and all-seeing lord over my domain. Solitude and serenity were his dear companions.

I made sure to keep my gaze averted as I went about my daily routine: hastily showering, preparing toast for breakfast, gathering my things to walk to my car. Every now and then I would steal a glance, and ah ha! He would be glaring down at me. There seemed no escape. Strangely, Shiloh and Patrick had never even noticed this uninvited guest. At least they had never mentioned it. I suppose I was the only one around there with any attention to detail. So I quietly kept the information to myself, determined to do something before he stole another's sanity.

Later that day I would buy some wall putty and a knife to try and officially end his reign as king of the household. I was so sick of being subject to others and their petty requests. But like all of the greatest villains, the wall putty only temporarily wounded the Watcher. Within a day's time, it looked as if I had never applied it, and his stare was as strong as ever.

1 comment:

Joseph Beatty said...

i really dig where this whole southern bound trickery deal is going.