i am zayne

lover of: music and words,thunderstorms and full moons,mountains and sweet breezes,poetry and prose,nursery rhymes and firelights.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

V oices in the Night

10/14/2007


2am -- the disembodied voice penetrated the air and sound waves of my semi-darkened room. “Stick your hands out of the windows” came its command. “AHHH”, I thought, “I have finally crossed over into true madness. I had ventured into the Virginia Woolf kind of insanity…the voices in the air psychosis, conjoiling, demanding, and persistent. But then it struck me that I am neither rich enough nor talented enough to afford that kind of mania, so I willed myself fully conscious in order to investigate.

The two four-legged late night patrollers that I share my living space with where on high alert when I finally emerged from my room. They directed me to look outside toward the lights…the flashing blue lights. It was like an episode of cops. I watched amazed.

“Put your hands out of the window.” “Driver, turn off the car.”

“Put your hands out of the window!” “Driver, turn off the car!”

It was clear that the vehicle occupants were either stupid or deaf as these two commands were repeated a bunch more times.

Finally, the occupants of the stopped car seemed to realize that the officers were directing their request to them. Hands emerged and the engine was finally cut. Uniformed officers surrounded the car, guns drawn and high, as other cops assumed the role of extracting the stubborn occupants one-by-one from the now quiet sedan and escorted them to a place out of my line of vision.

Because it happened in front of my house, I am interested to know what was going on. Was it a traffic stop gone badly? I truly don’t think so since there were so many cops on site and from distant sounds, more were on the way.

Like most citizens, I selfishly think that stuff like this is supposed to happen on other streets, in front of other people’s houses, not mine. When I go to bed, that’s supposed to be it…my only excitement being which pillow will get to cradle my head and the sound of the fan softly humming in the background. The only scenes I am supposed to witness are those in the hazy world of dreams – not action heroes on patrol.

zss

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