Maybe continued......

Maybe I should run. Maybe I should hide. Maybe I should be able to put the pee back in just as easily as it came running out down my pant leg. Maybe I need to grow up. Maybe one day I will. But at the moment, I can’t move. I’m frozen in a state of horror. It’s my wife. Well, my wife’s ghost, or spirit or what ever the hell you want to call it. She's been gone for quite a while now, so I'm pretty sure it ain't actually her in the flesh. Nevertheless, she's gazing in the window, longing to be back in there. In the house. Her house. Yearning to take back what she’d done. A floating, pale, see thru figure swaying in the breeze with her hand pressed against the window longing to have her life back. I can’t breathe. I can’t stop missing her. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop smelling her. I can’t stop feeling her gentle touch. A dog barks loudly behind me in the neighbors yard. Startled, I jump around, luckily one can't pee there pants twice, and look the other way, but when I turn back to the house, she’s gone. I slowly go back inside and check on the boys, they’re sound asleep. I wish I could always protect from harm. But I can’t even seem to do that for me right now. I change out of my wet pants and then I turn of the TV in the kids room and the hall light as I head back to the kitchen and take two Xanax. I grab the bottle of vino and head over to my desk. I open the desk drawer and pull out a pack of cigarettes. I haven’t smoked in 4 years. I light one with my zippo. Put it up to my lips and take a long drag. As I blow out a lung full I wondered why I’d ever quit these things. Maybe I shouldn't have. I get out my pencil and start to draw the demon who has been keeping me from my much needed sleep. Maybe if I sketch him out and trap him on paper he can’t get to me when I close my eyes. Well, it’s a long shot, but I’ve still got a few glasses of wine to go. Maybe I’ll get a couple of his buddies scribbled down too. And then Maybe I’ll get some sleep before daylight.