Surreal Awakening

 

I stare at the gargoyles from my driveway.

I seriously don’t know if I can handle this before coffee.

Who are these people living across the street?

Squatting down to pick up the paper, my eyes don’t leave the statues.  Their stone mouths snarl open, exposing vicious teeth warding off intruders.  As I stand back up, paper in hand, I commit to never accepting a dinner party request from those people.

I’m so focused on the cold grey monsters hissing at me that I barely register the person pulling up on the bike.

“Morning, Lori! Hey, you okay?”

“Hey, Mike, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just not quite sure what to make of that.”

“Make of — Whoa!” Mike shifts to follow my gaze. He lets out a low whistle. “Those are the new people, huh? What’d ya say? Fifteen, twenty foot tall?”

“Looks like it.”

“It’s a tad early in the morning to behold the likes of that…”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Why am I suddenly scared to blink?”

“Because you watch too much TV.”

We stand in silence for a moment, staring at huge, hideous statues.  I don’t know about Mike, but I’m not blinking.

Gradually I am aware that I am standing outside at 6am in sweatpants and a purple tank top with no bra, scared to turn away from a stupid statue. I shake myself back into reality.

“Mike, have a good morning. I’m going in for coffee.”

“Yeah, you too, Lori.”

I turn and start up the drive, leaving Mike to continue to stand there and gawk.  The second I pour my coffee I’m checking the real estate section in the classifieds.

 

Source: I ain’t foolin’ around

Thanks to April for the words: gargoyle, sweatpants, purple

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Surreal Awakening

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s