hunter killer
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strange things around, even at 6:45 on a Sunday morning. like the SUV that sat idling dead centre at the intersection of Cherry and Pine, with all its lights on. they must be waiting for someone, I thought, walking up from a block away. just a quick stop. but it just sat there, all dead-centre-ish. i walked right up to it, not wanting (terribly not wanting, in that sighing sick way) to find a guy slumped over the steering wheel. there was a person in there alright, and moving, but (he? she? the silhouette was iffy) stared straight ahead, stroking his/her chin. thinking or waiting or waiting for some thinking to start. i stood there for a few seconds, making myself known. look, i'm a shadow. look, this is how you get shot. so i moved on. at the corner of Cherry and York (about three blocks away) i looked back; it was still sitting there.
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leaving my studio Sunday afternoon, having spent the morning looking up to the window at the wildest weather, a rainstorm then a snowstorm then this awful angry wind, throwing stuff around (including an old satellite dish, which i was sure would come crashing through), when i looked up one last time, on my way out the door, to see some guy running across the roof, grabbing a short ladder to climb up on another roof, while some girl cheered him on from a window across the way, and of course the ladder fell down in that wind (just missing my window), and there i am standing there, with my coat on, wondering what my responsibilities are when it comes to saving the stupid, but then the girl ran out and put his ladder back, and then they both just ran off, leaving the ladder lying there.
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on a bit of an owl kick lately. i also did a little audio piece about arguing, which now strikes me as similar in tone to the one i did about writing. so sue me.
The wind makes people crazy. My hometown is affectionately known as 'Windy Wellington'. I take advantage of it all the time, and blame my craziness on the wind. Works for me.
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