"… Another late night at work she said to herself as she climbed into the Checker cab
“429 Plunkett” she called.
It was stuffy and suffocationg in the cab. She opened a window but felt no better.
Something was bothering her. Like some important unfinished business of some sort. She could not quite put her finger on it.
As the taxi pulled up in front of her building, the shattering noise of lightening starttled her and gave way almost immediately to a downpour.
“nine dollars, ma’am”
“give me ten back” said she, handing him a twenty dollar bill.
Tilting her head down from the rain, she rummaged through her cluttered purse for her keys. “too much stuff” she thought as she was lifting notebooks, packs of gum, a couple of unpaid bills, her laughing whistle nicely snuggled in a soft leather pouch she had made.“why do I carry this around?” but she knew that this whistle was to her as a security blanket is to a child.
Searching through her purse, she had not noticed the tall figure standing at her doorsteps.
“You dropped this” he said, as he was showing her a wet ten dollar bill. He was her neighbor.
“Thanks Ralph” she muttered.
Climbing up to the second floor, she caught herself humming “the Cook in the Kitchen”.
That’s odd, she thought. It was not one of her favorite jig, may be because she could not play it very well. The F natural made it tricky. The only times she would get to it was when they played it at the session, usually right after “Tatter Jack Walsh”.
Suddenly, she felt a strange need to play it, and even before turning on the light in her appartment, she grabbed the oak whistle she always kept on a shelf by the door.
At the very first note, she was amazed to find out that she had hummed the jig with a perfect pitch, starting it on a low d.
Putting her whistle down, she headed for the light.
There was no power.
The storm was raging outside, and a dead branch was hitting the window like the insistant scratch of a rabbied squirel.
Out of the dark room came a shape, darker still, with stretched out wings like a gigantic crow with threatening claws.
A deep nasal cry “NAAAW! NAAAW!” was coming out of a grotesquely elonged beak.
“NO! she screemed, NO!”
At these words, the beast’s boddy suddenly changed into a long black thin cylindric shape, almost perfect in design and overwhelming in beauty.
The very same thing she dreaded a moment ago had now transformed into something she knew she had to have.
But its wings were carrying it away…
"wait! wait! she cried in despair.
It was too late. The strange creature was now disappearing into an endless grey sky.
She was left with utter emptiness and regret.
Then she woke up. Tears were in her eyes.
“This was only a dream!..then may be it is not too late.
The Ralph Cook Low D! the Lottery. I must send $10 to the lottery!”
“Quick, I must find the address!..”
She jumped out of her bed and went to turn her computer on.
“Come on! come on!..”
There was no power.
The storm was raging outside, and a dead branch was hitting the window like the insistant scratch of a rabbied squirel…"
Otter
( see “Lottery” thread for details)
[ This Message was edited by: Otter on 2002-04-20 15:31 ]
[ This Message was edited by: Otter on 2002-04-30 19:50 ]