Saturday, October 6, 2012

Stalked Again

What worries me is not that I'm being stalked. What worries me is that it doesn't worry me. 

I was sitting at my desk the other day when I saw a shadow cross my window, not ten feet away. 

I'm in a first floor apartment, facing the street, and I work from home. I'd rather people didn't know when I'm here and when I'm not so I always keep the blinds mostly closed - open enough for light but not open enough for someone to see in. I knew it wasn't the day for the landscapers - they had come the day before. 

And, yet, I wasn't worried. More, I was curious about who might be outside my window and what would happen when we came face to face. The source of this shadow wasn't on the sidewalk. No, whoever cast this shadow was right outside.

Now, I would  come out of my skin if a spider were to cross my path, but a mysterious shadow across my window? Surely, there must be a screw loose in here somewhere.

The shadow moved as I watched. And, then, the shadow spoke.

"Meow," said the cat on my windowsill who was stalking, indeed, to find the best spot in which to sun himself.

"Boo," I replied. 

Boo, indeed.

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