Thursday, September 30, 2010

Entry #28 Anecdotal

I wrote a play last night about my month-long stay in Lia and Piper's New York apartment.

A quickie before I go:

I used to keep my box fan in the window frame with the window open behind it.  One night, I was reading in bed, and the fan lifted up in the window frame and flew across the room, crashing into the opposite wall (at my feet).  I didn't go through all of the questions one might have about what had happened, why what had happened happened or how.  Instead, I got up and went over to the fan.  It was now unplugged, its plug had been pulled from the wall in flight.  I picked up the fan and carried it back to the window frame.  As I did so, the blades began to spin, slowly at first but with increasing speed.  Once I had set the fan in the window, the blades were at a regular roar.  I lowered the fan to the floor and got in bed.  I left the fan off, sitting on the floor beside me.  I was alone.  I made a few phone calls but no one answered.  It was late.  So I made a deal with the ghost.  I keep the fan on the floor now.  I sleep with my back to it.

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