This was not an every night thing, only when I felt the need. My work never suffered. I did not have a meet the public job so my looks did not matter,...much anyway. Everyone knew why I was the way I was. They knew I needed time and space; they gave it to me. I ran into the same guy in the same bar once or twice a week for several weeks. The night always ended more or less the same, he helped me home, got me inside and left. We never even knew each others names.Then one night he sat next to me,. The song was finished and an old pickup truck was kicking up dirt, moving away from the cabin down the driveway. The silence was short lived, because the melody came back to me, amplified by my memory and imagination, in a siren’s song, beckoning me to the house. I vaguely was aware of the leaves falling around, and of the sun beginning to fall towards the horizon. Eventually my senses returned, and I quickly moved back towards my own cabin, hoping to avoid trying to find my way through the. More

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