Pacing

There is a boy outside my house right now pacing.  And staring in the window of the house across the street.  And every once in awhile he rubs his eyes and stares longingly.  It’s great!  It’s like a scene from a bad romantic comedy that also has a teen storyline to attract younger audiences.  He looks to be about 16 and is wearing some sort of comic book tshirt and glasses with transition lenses. 

Okay now he’s looking at me in here, what do I do?  Smile?  Look away – I’ve looked away.  Deeply focused on my computer.

He’s taken several steps into the road now staring at the house…now he’s sulking back to the sidewalk.  I have an urge to go ask him what he’s waiting for – but then he might say something like “My drug dealer” or “None of your effing business” and then the romance of the moment will be lost.  The romance between him and the mystery girl that I imagine he’s waiting to notice him out the window of that townhouse.

Oh the things I will do to put off writing my final paper.