Feb 142013

My elderly neighbour just knocked on the door to check and see if I was okay. He said he hadn’t seen me leave the house lately and thought I might be sick. He said he noticed the lights were on till the early morning, but that didn’t mean anything; people go away and leave their lights on to fool robbers. He offered to bring me food. This was very sweet. He walks with a cane, has had multiple strokes, has glaucoma. But then I became alarmed: Without being conscious of my decline I have become a figure of public charity, a lost soul. In the evenings now I see the ghost of my old cat Hobbes prowling in the backyard.


  10 Responses to “Life at NC Central Command”

  1. How lovely to know that you’re so deeply cared for, and that you’re a part of a neighborhood where people pay attention and reach out to others. You deserve this kind of sensitivity.

    • Thank you, Tavia. Trust you to see the up side of this squalid situation. Or do I detect a deeper note of irony in your words? 🙂
      I really must pull myself together.

  2. Oh, I love this for a beginning of a novel!

  3. Oh DG. Lately I’ve been noticing the timing of your NC posts and wondering “Is this guy sleeping?” Guess that answer is “No.” Yes, you do have to pull yourself together. Please get some sleep, eat well, and take a few walks. We need the Shredder operating in full glory.

  4. You have a kind and good neighbour. That’s all there is to it. Be happy!

    • Actually, it’s a very nice neighbourhood, unpretentious, blue collar mostly (fireman, cook, bartender/restaurant manager, policeman, hairdresser). Decent people. With some excitement now and then. People lend you things, snowblow your driveway.

  5. I’m reading this thread belatedly and enjoying it immensely. Glad you have a compassionate and attentive neighbor, and I’m also delighted that you’re upholding the stereotype of the eccentric writer. : )

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