Morning all. Tuesday is in full swing early today. One of our neighbors dogs decided to break out and go chasing the feral gats in the neighborhood. Unfortunately that led him to our back yard. It is always strange to see a basset hound moving at speed. They baying I am used to but seeing them run always seems like something that shouldn’t happen. Their little legs running and long ears flopping. Not to mention the neighbor trying softly call “Darnell” from the edge of the property because he didn’t want to go into our yard. It was an interesting wake up call and I have to say, Darnell was quite pleased with himself. The feral cats, not so much. However it is time for the morning prompt. So timers set and off we go.
Interesting. I like the character and I have to say, I kind of like the set up. No clue where it is going but even if I just use the parts, this could be fun to play with.
Tuesday, July 16th: It was becoming an obsession.
It was becoming an obsession. He knew it was, and yet it seemed the better option. For the past few years, his drinking had been increasing. He knew it had. He had always been a social drinker but he never kept alcohol at home. Then when he went into lockdown he took the alcohol into his personal quarantine with him. After his work was through he picked a cocktail to try and slowly worked through every drink in the bartenders guide.
After he was through, he stocked up on what was needed for his favorites and then tried out all sorts of drinks he found listed on various internet sites. Slowly his evening consumption progressed. He wasn’t quite sure how or why. He wasn’t depressed or yearning for something. It just seemed like something to do. Then one day he looked at the empties in his bin and decided it was too much.
So he stopped.
He then found he had a large chunk of time on his hands. There was no choosing, preparing and mixing of his ingredients. No delicate sipping for taste as the evening started, or less delicate drinking as the night progressed. There was just a long stretch of hours before him. As he was pacing one evening, trying to come up with a list of activities to while away the time between the end of work and the beginning of sleep, he glanced out of the window.
Looking out, he realized that his window afforded him a view of several other apartments, and slightly off in the distance a strange industrial area.
He began watching. With his neighbors, he didn’t see much. The industrial area however, he saw lots of activity after dark. He wondered if it was normal activity or something more clandestine. Deciding it didn’t really matter ass long as it kept him occupied until he could find something else to do, he bought himself a pair of binoculars and a notepad and began taking notes.
While he made notes on the activity after dark, there was a stretch of quiet just after the end of the work day and before darkness and the activity he was monitoring started. In this time, he found himself on line, researching the site. Slowly he built a history and, using google images, a map of the site. It went along with his notes and slowly he began imagining himself as some sort of detective. He pretended it was a case and wondered what the activity could be.
In his heart, he knew that it was probably something rational. He saw the shift change and the trucks arrive. He saw people with official looking uniforms check identification and others with clip boards mark things down. It was hardly clandestine. But watching it, was in its own way addictive.
It didn’t help that he was not making any progress in finding himself a hobby.
He was chastising himself for this fact as well as running potential other hobbies through his head on the night when things changed. He was too far away to hear the gunshot, but he was looking right at the man holding the gun when he pulled the trigger.
Ten til Midnight 