2002-06-13 @ 10:49 p.m.
Like a Cat
There was a door ajar in the dairy barn. It was open a crack, and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling cast a beam of light out onto the concrete before me. It was one of those doors that you just never notice. You assume it's just a closet. Or electrical panels.
But I looked inside. And there was a staircase. I crept up silently. I listened for movement. Utter silence.
It went up, then around a corner, then up, then around a corner, and the heat increased intensely on this 22 degree evening.
I was in the hay loft - a hay loft I didn't know existed. I gently walked to the edge and peered over at the cobweb dusty chasm below. Each footstep generated a serious groan from the tired wood flooring.
Then I saw another door. This one came with a warning about no entry except authorized personnel with a valid permit. I looked at my feet. Then I looked at the door. Then at the doorknob.
My heart lept just a bit as a cool breeze squeezed in through the door as it swung open. Then I nodded and smiled. A sliver of moon. The tops of trees. And a maze of wooden trestles across the tar-paper rooftop. I walked to the edge and surveyed my kingdom.
I walked back to the door and noticed a ladder. I'd come this far. One rung, two rungs, cobweb, three rungs, four rungs. This time it was the top of the world. Well, this quaint little world. I walked the trestles to the center of the building and looked up. I found my meteor shower watching location. Bring it on, August, bring on the falling stars.
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