the visitor
this morning I woke up around nine to give the whiny dog a walk. we stroll around the back in the dew, and then I decide to go around to the front to pick up the paper.
it was then that I saw, on the front porch, the visitor:
buster barked a few times, I stared at it as questions raced through my head (how did this get here? who put it here? what the hell is it?), and we both ran back to the back of the house. maybe it's because I've been in the house by myself for a while, or maybe it's just a displacement of my usual anxiety, but I've been paranoid in a really stereotypical way lately - you know, murderers lurking outside the windows, thieves outside the door. so, assuming the worst about this strange little visitor (maybe it's really a bomb!) I wake up my sister and after my inarticulate whining ("there's a little person on the front porch!") and buster's scratching against her door, she grumpily agreed to come down and check it out - this time from the other side of the door.
here's the view face-on:
that's rachel looking on in terror. thankfully, she was as freaked out by the whole thing as I was - we considered calling the police, and she too thought "something might be in it" (she didn't say what, but she did have buster sniff it - maybe cocaine?). the really frightening aspect of it was that whole headlessness thing. someone must have bashed its head off and then put it outside our front door (which would entail opening a front gate and walking up a little path and a set of steps). I think if it had still been endowed with a head, it could have been simply whimsical, some old saint nicholas or something sitting on our front porch, with a big smile and outstretched arms. but when it's a headless guy on your front porch with outstretched arms, as if in a plea for absolution? that, my friends, is just plain sinister.
we didn't call the police or anything, since I don't think it's really a cause for alarm, much less official investigation. but our mom told us to keep the doors locked and the security system on. you know what the worst part about this visitor is? I think that whomever he came with stole our sunday times. and you know that's not right.
it was then that I saw, on the front porch, the visitor:
buster barked a few times, I stared at it as questions raced through my head (how did this get here? who put it here? what the hell is it?), and we both ran back to the back of the house. maybe it's because I've been in the house by myself for a while, or maybe it's just a displacement of my usual anxiety, but I've been paranoid in a really stereotypical way lately - you know, murderers lurking outside the windows, thieves outside the door. so, assuming the worst about this strange little visitor (maybe it's really a bomb!) I wake up my sister and after my inarticulate whining ("there's a little person on the front porch!") and buster's scratching against her door, she grumpily agreed to come down and check it out - this time from the other side of the door.
here's the view face-on:
that's rachel looking on in terror. thankfully, she was as freaked out by the whole thing as I was - we considered calling the police, and she too thought "something might be in it" (she didn't say what, but she did have buster sniff it - maybe cocaine?). the really frightening aspect of it was that whole headlessness thing. someone must have bashed its head off and then put it outside our front door (which would entail opening a front gate and walking up a little path and a set of steps). I think if it had still been endowed with a head, it could have been simply whimsical, some old saint nicholas or something sitting on our front porch, with a big smile and outstretched arms. but when it's a headless guy on your front porch with outstretched arms, as if in a plea for absolution? that, my friends, is just plain sinister.
we didn't call the police or anything, since I don't think it's really a cause for alarm, much less official investigation. but our mom told us to keep the doors locked and the security system on. you know what the worst part about this visitor is? I think that whomever he came with stole our sunday times. and you know that's not right.