Saturday, December 24. 2016

The strangest thing about watching the clock wind about the dial,  in the wee small hours off the dark, is the lack of voice’s and noise.

And each night has its own character, its own weather, and its own thoughts.

Tonight is qiet. With exceptions: I rose at three, Dog  waiting by the table as I fumble into  sweats and shoes and we head for the back door – without lights, for after all my eyes are accustom to the darkness.

Dog get to pee on the tree near the patio and I get to smile when I hear the druggies alarms they have aimed at my back door go off around the very quiet village. Early tonight, before bed time, it was  dogs barking in two locations and roosters crowing in one.

This night when I let dog out, I knowingly stepped out onto the patio to set off the alarms and heard dogs barking in three locations about he village. This morning at three I stepped out again and only one dog barked (the loudest voice of them all. It belongs, I believe, to my near neighbor. He claims he has good hearing.)

Twenty minutes later I stepped out and all remained quiet.

It’s a game to me. Why the dopers want to know when I exit my home I haven’t a clue. But they do.  All the alarms are set each and every day, and night. The problem, they are finding, is when I figured out what was going on I deliberately plotted random times to expose myself to the noises.

And the animals have died out one by one.  There use to  be ten.

Now only one or two.

I’ve spoken with the village council members and they claim, in spite of my stated belief, that the real bums about paying their bills are the dopers. The village pointed out that it isn’t the dopers in arrears, it is the alcoholic’s.

I suppose then that the dopers have the money for the toy’s they play with and allow me to play with them also – although, with the decline in participating members, either through getting tired of getting up at three a.m. to turn off the alarms, or their neighbors, less heavily involved with slumber that are bothered with the dogs and chickens at that hour and who are not hesitant to voice displeasure, one would not inquire.

It’s a village thing.

No one would think of telling me that they know their neighbors perform such acts – “I don’t want those people over to my place.” , nor would I tell them I know what their neighbor’s do.

So. They suffer my early morning forage’s out the back door. And the daily, during working hours even, exits and entries to the patio.’

I look forward to my early morning sojourns.

Tomorrow is Christmas. The season of religion and forgiving and cheer and congeniality.

You all have a Merry Christmas.  One and all.

I know I will spread the spirit  at three a.m.. Just because I know I can.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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2 Responses to Saturday, December 24. 2016

  1. johnrailtime says:

    Merry Christmas and happy barking dog morning’s

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