At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013


Matchstick blinds do not afford privacy. They aren't meant to. What they do is let light enter with a breaking of the rays, and lend a sense of distance to the world. But in the evening the view lessens, while brilliance within makes the room from without appear warm and cozy, albeit slightly anonymous.
You cannot tell the details, though the outlines are clear.

On Monday I had gone out to the front steps with a pipe at around five thirty.
It was not yet dark though twilight was nigh. I had intended to take a short walk, but the evening sky above Lafayette Park was lovely from my vantage point, and the trees near the bus stop added magic to the scene.
So I lit up and remained where I was, drinking in the various sights. Across the street, and slightly further down the slope a window shone brightly, the room behind plainly visible through the blinds.
A man sat on the couch next to the fenestre, shortly joined by a woman who snuggled up beside him and fell asleep. No, I have no idea of their ages; their features were masked by distance and the matchstick blinds. They could have been husband and wife, or father and daughter.

All over the city people stayed home on Monday; it was the second day of Chinese New Year. That would likely explain why I have never seen them in their living room before now. New Year is the perfect time for people to be together, and for family members to enjoy each other's company. How you start the year is indicative of how it will continue.

My apartment mate left shortly after noon. I suspect that she spent the rest of the day with her boy friend. I stayed at home, puttering around and reading. The pipe at twilight was the fourth bowl of the day.
Virginia, with an echo of autumn fruit.

Shortly after six o'clock I went back in and fixed myself a cup of tea.
Plus hot buttered toast and marmalade.

The image of the two people across the way stayed with me; my mind's eye remembers nice sights, and will replay such things without any prompting.
They looked extraordinarily at ease together, peaceful and content.
How sweet to slumber next to a family member.

I'm quite fond of our block. There's a very tall acacia by the bus stop nearby, then charming gloomy darkness under the trees near the church at the other end. A line of handsome buildings opposite, and a friendly second storey window with matchstick blinds opaquely shielding a cozy living room.
It looks like the perfect place to perch during a daytime storm.
Imagine looking across to leafy boughs, made hazy behind a veil of water, oneself hidden in the darkness of an unlit room. Perhaps lazily flaked in a dreamstate, as the rain outside washes everything clean.
Doze for an hour or two during the afternoon.
Then awaken to a cup of tea.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.



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