VISIONS IN THE EYES
Driving
away, I looked back in the rearview mirror and breathed a sigh of relief. It was all over; the crazy lady was
dead. No more nights looking at eyes on
plates in reflective juice, it was all over!
It
began when I first moved into my new old house one day in June. It was very comfortable, yellow and white with
green shutters. I loved it because it was my first very own place. It had wooden floors and a magnificent stone
fireplace in the living room. Many days
and nights were spent watching the flames jump up into the chimney and feeling the
warmth it produced.
I had a
little white poodle named Baggins (from the Hobbit). She was the cutest dog anybody could
own. She was truly frisky, wanting to
play all the time. Baggins seemed to
have a special way of communicating with me.
I actually felt like we carried on conversations. We understood each other. Baggins always knew when I was
depressed. She felt it. It was uncanny, this relationship we had.
After I
had been living there for a couple of months, my next door neighbor came over
and introduced herself. She was a sprite
old lady, full of wit with lots to say.
She never talked about herself.
She just asked questions about me.
Her name was Agnes, the only name she ever told anyone.
