Filed under: Bloggidy Blog
Last evening there was this tremendous wind storm and a giant branch broke off of a tree by our driveway.
The cracking sound was really quite something so I went outside to see what the hell was going on. All my neighbors were there, too, so I embraced this chance to caught up on the blood trail story. I stopped wondering about the blood’s origin about a week ago I asked a friend who works 911 calls about it. She said someone punched through a glass window about 3 blocks away. No stabbing or gunshot, just drunk people. That’s really all I was concerned about. Anyway, my neighbors affirmed that the two men involved were very inebriated. I guess my neighbor just found a collapsed bleeding man in his front yard around 1:30am and called 911. The man left standing repeatedly referred to the other as “bro”, so we know they were bros, but not much else. I’m sure they’re fine now as drunk people are surprisingly resilient and almost always survive drunken brushes with death so they can do the same thing next weekend. One person’s wake-up call is just another day at the office for others.
So you see, it isn’t disinterest or fear or anything that keeps neighbors from talking to one another–it’s a lack of shared common experiences. Now in the evening when I walk T-Bone the hedgehog people ask “What kind of a creature is that?” and I say “It’s a hedgehog. He likes walking on the sidewalk.” And they say “What a great little animal! Say, did you see that trail of blood on the sidewalk?” And then we have two things to talk about, three if you count the tree.
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