jchrisobrien | Madness?

Every night and morning, it is the same. A female voice, hoarse, older. Croaking and babbling to an unknown audience. Perhaps a person living with her? Perhaps just shouted to the night sky. She rambles on about a wide variety of subjects. Last night it was the MFA and funding artists. The voice rises and tapes off, it flows slowly from her tongue, like the words are unfamiliar. Then she will crescendo and spit them out with great clarity and force. Then there will be silence. But only for a little while.

Several times I lay in bed, a hot retort just begging to leap from my lips. Something short, vulgar, and suggestive. I never speak. I close one window instead, which mutes her voice slightly. Only when she crescendos is it really jarring. And what good will shouting at her do really? If she isn't insane, she's drunk. If she isn't drunk, she obviously doesn't care how loud she is speaking, as I doubt she has an audience. Outside of myself, of course.

I try instead to follow her narrative, wondering what story will fall from her lips next. There is certainly no telling what will happen, not even from one sentence to another. One thing I do distinctly remember her saying more that once. "I am totally, totally, totally alone."

I lie back in the darkness, and try to sleep.

Madness?

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