No One Home

So I went walking around the neighbourhood. Knocking on doors. To say hello.
I did not realize - until now - that this - as behaviour - is no longer done.
I wanted advice on a pie I was intending to bake - rhubarb with fruit flies.
The silence was enormous.
We grow up believing in the notion of community.
No one answers. I find that irksome. I dreamt that I was on Mars, as the mayor. There was no else there. Perhaps I was the president.
I'd like to go for a run right now to clear my mind but there are seven things wrong with one of my knees. The other is fine.
Or I shouldn't say fine.
The other knee is struggling to deal with the phenomena of having nothing wrong with it.
Every time I shave, my neck gets thicker.
Someone on the street today called me obtuse.
I don't like to think that I am obtuse.
I'd prefer vermillion.
Image Credit » image my own
Comments
MegL wrote on July 20, 2016, 1:00 AM
Rhubarb pie I know. Rhubarb with fruit flies is a new one on me. I love your phrase, "We grow up believing in the notion of community. No one answers." I know you may not have meant them to be together in maybe that exact way but it sounds just right.
Squidwhisperer wrote on July 20, 2016, 11:52 PM
Yeah - wonderful accidents...