Can we slow it down just a little? Turn the lights down low? Maybe a little wine, baby? Let's get closer to that fire.
I live in this lovely complex with lovely (-ish) buildings and lovely landscaping and even lovely staff. And some people leave their blinds open and are all out there with weird, twisty candles and ugly couches, and questionable running shoes lying in the middle of the living room. These are interesting people. They have stories to tell about where they are running, who they are lighting those candles for and why that couch? Why that hideous Navajo blanket draped across the back? I am interested in these people.
Even more intriguing are those that leave the blinds just a half-way closed. Where there's a blurry image of what's going on behind there. And what's going on is marvelously interesting and exciting and mysterious and just a little bit dangerous. But it's all amorphous shapes and the tantalizing draw of the unknown. These are the people I am even more interested in.
But I suppose...to get these questions, my wonderings appeased, I would need to actually know these people. And the stories in my head will not be the stories that they tell. And I'm not sure I'm ready to give up the sometimes belief that that hideous Navajo blanket is actually a magic tapestry leading to enchanted worlds where unicorns and dragons frolic, instead of a gift from Aunt Paula when she went on the Senior Citizen road trip out West. And they would learn that I'm not running a sweatshop with tiny immigrant children, churning out imitation Rolex.
I don't think I'm ready to do that.