No More Creepy 330AM Door-Banging Please Amen
I’m sitting here, leaning up against a wall, a beautiful woman sleeping peacefully by my side. Thunder claps outside, I can only imagine that rain falls in sheets outside the windows I cannot see from my vantage point, in the back, behind two dividing walls.
I have a beautiful quilt hanging on the largest wall of the loft. It is a healing quilt. It is a piece of art, truly. Tens of these should hang on walls of art galleries and sell for thousands. But that would be ripping them out of their natural ecosystem, which is one of gift. One of purpose.
Ps 40, it says on the back.
Last night at 3:40am, someone banged on the front door for minutes. It was true banging, not subtle knocking, and it was on OUR door. The blinds were completely open, and so I hestitated before passing through the door into the front. I racked my brain for good reasons someone I should see about would be violently banging on my door in the middle of the night. I could find none. So I waited, fearfully, behind that wall, for the banging to stop. And it did. Tonight I prayed fervently for that NEVER to happen again, EVER. Lord, hear our prayer.
I also bought a baseball bat.
I am still curious who the fuck it might have been, probably a confused stranger, but the banging was SO violent. I feared even being seen behind the window, that that would spur them on and there would have been no end to it until the cops came or some worse violence had been committed.
Tonight, only thunder. I can handle thunder. I hope the rain keeps the creeps from being out.
So I sit, thinking about the work I am to show on the 20th and 21st of next month, and the software I also must finish well before that date, ASAFHP in fact.
The work will be words and pictures, and will start something like this:<blockquote style="font-family: courier, serif;"> Danny,
Enclosed you will find a little something someone told me to send you. He handed it to me practically in hysterics, hands shaking and so clamy that they made the cloth it was wrapped in wet. I’ve taken the liberty to repackage it. This is what he told me to tell you in regards to it:<blockquote>Take good care of it, it is yours for the journey. If you find yourself with no more use for it, then do pass it on, but do so with fear and trembling, that they may see your consternation. Yours, Will.</blockquote></blockquote>