02.23.17; 5:37am: They’re Coming…

The Dingo¬†shot up out of a dead sleep, “They’re coming. Do you hear that?”

It was still dark outside, I was barely awake trying to calm her, “Lie down. There’s nothing out there.”

“No, lady. They’re coming…”

In the silence of the wee hours of this morning, the garbage truck, with its yellow spinning lights, drove past my house.


“I forgot to take out the trash. Damn it.”

“I told you they were coming, lady.”

Thankfully, the garbage is collected twice a week. Though the stench in garage will be kind of unbearable, in a few days it will be gone. The recycling on the other hand, is collected twice a month; and, I’ve forgotten to put that out for well over a month. By the time the second Wednesday rolls around, provided I remember, the four containers (I’ll have to fill up the empty kitty litter containers, too, by then) I use to collect all things that can be recycled, I’ll look like a raging alcoholic to the neighbors.


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