Gardening At Night

I haven’t seen much of my neighbors lately and yesterday feeling braver than usual, I sauntered onto the back deck with a book. I sat down and listened for a moment to the sounds of nature (mainly road construction and sirens) before settling in to read.

While minding my own (and possibly everyone else’s) business, I sensed movement from next door. It was my hookery looking neighbor who I now refer to as Honeypot as much for her backyard boyfriend humping as the delicate blend of honey mixed with bleach she considers a hair colour.

She was wearing a leopard type animal print with her hair pulled back into a stubby pig tail and holding a watering can. For the moment, she seemed content to confine herself to the few potted plants on her deck. I safely went back to my book only to be distracted a short while later by the sound of flowers along her back fence snickering at her approach.

The animal print revealed itself to be a one piece bathing suit that while large on its own was far too small for her, a fact that her dimpled ass can attest to. Stippling down from her exposed cheeks were the legs of a dancer, say a 75 year old and badly out of shape dancer. Apart from me, I felt it was a lot to ask of the sun.

Before I could make plans to be blinded by a local gang member, one of the most horrifying events of my adult life occurred. Honeypot turned, smiled and waved at me. I weakly smiled back, collected myself and fled to safety fighting back tears.

Most of the night was spent painting my windows black and wondering what material would be best used to fashion a large HELP sign for the roof.