THE SCREECHING

Two homeless people sitting on the front steps when I stepped out for a first smoke. Both as wide awake as necessary for a surrealist conversation. Almost dada level.
Which, I would imagine, is impossible in a small town.

Naturally caffeinated.

Before heading up the hill I was questioned about that screamy sound the busses do when they pull away from the curb. It's always going to be an interesting day when you hear that. It's a presagement of something. And today, the fog has cleared early.

It's going to be warmish. Dress accordingly.

I'm glad that's been decided.

At such an early hour you will understand that I am not fully social, what with still trying to wake up and shift into my human form. And given that the day holds unknown terrors in a basement -- people all around me on their laptops and cellular devices in the jury waiting room -- fortification and steeling myself to not snap people's heads off is essential.

If am selected, it means a guilty verdict.

Let's get it over with.



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