Written by

Mystery Bags


You know you aren’t getting out enough when you get home late one night to find a plastic bag sitting on your doorstep and your heart begins to race. It doesn’t race because you think maybe, just maybe, someone’s heard you praying every night right after brushing your teeth and has finally seen to it that the million dollar jackpot be delivered to you. No, your heart is racing because you are trying to move as quickly as possible, to undo the locks and to hurry inside before the bag blows up because all you can think is Oh my god, someone has left a bomb on my doorstep. Now, why I would even think I am important enough for someone to go out of their way to build a bomb for is beyond me. I must have artificially high levels of self esteem that peak when I spend too much time in stuffy hospitals.

After stepping inside, I flipped on the porch light (can I call it that even though the light does not shine on a porch but just a spot of sidewalk which happens to be right in front of my door?) and used my foot to part the bag open. Would it be a snake? A pile of poo? The money? Could that much money even fit into one plastic bag like that? And then I see small spheres which very well could have been poo, but there was also a note, and something told me someone who would leave poo on my doorstep would not be so considerate as to leave a note with it. They were plums, hand picked plums from the tree in my neighbor’s backyard. How nice of him… and here you thought it was a bomb!

Speaking of nice, so many people have been so very nice to me recently through this blog. First, it was the comments. Everyone likes comments, don’t they? Especially good comments that involve detailed stories or even just plain ol’ compliments are nice too. They amaze me because when I think about the comments I try to leave on other people’s blogs, they end up sounding like I had half my brain removed right before dinner. If I read something funny, I might leave a comment like, “So great! So funny! Har har! I’m a pirate! Ha, actually, no, I’m not. Heh… Heh…” and then I will close my laptop up because even it is feeling awkward and uncomfortable and cannot bear it.

Then after that, I got emails from people encouraging me to keep hope alive and wishing Alan and me all the best… something like that. I didn’t pay too much attention except for at the end when they signed with things like “Your friend.” And then I started thinking maybe now with all these acquaintances I can become properly socialized and stop thinking plums on my doorstep are out to get me.

Last modified: January 10, 2019