Usually when I sleep, by God I SLEEP. Yep....but then I am not Dylan. Well some days maybe, but you know how it is. 

 Now, as for sleeping. There is that sleep of the Gods but also there is the sleep of ... huh huh...sure.

 You are sleeping SOOO peacefully...the sleep of the pure and innocent as if that were even remotely possible, and suddenly you AREN'T... 

 Pure, innocent OR sleeping. BOOM!

 +++++++++++++++++++++++
DYLAN: 

 I heard a noise and instantly awoke. I looked around but saw nothing amiss in the mostly darkened bedroom. However my instincts told me something was amiss, perhaps downstairs.

Now I am not exactly the brave sort of hero sort of...NOPE, more WIMPY I is, but since I am alone and the cat isn't much good at this sort of thing I decided to go for it. 

 I slithered out of bed, and immediately thought better of it, (BUT as long as I am up)...and I also thought I am SO not good at midnight sleuthies.

I made my way to the closet, reaching for my trusty baseball bat, a Louisville Slugger no less...given to me by a friend (Jessica) who doesn't like the idea of my being out here in the country in this big old house and 
unprotected. 

 She also knows how I feel about firearms (agin 'em so don't have 'em). 

 Anyway, once fortified with courage (yeh right...without Vodka?) I made my way out to the hallway which was pitch dark and not exactly welcoming. I flipped the switch and instantly all three small chandeliers came on, illuminating every corner of the big hallway...
but again nothing seemed wrong or out of place or...
I stood stock still for a minute and strained to listen to see if I could detect any sound or movement downstairs, and no I couldn't. I paused, while adjusting my grip on the bat, and with one really longing look back at the warm and cozy bed behind me...DRAT. 


I began the long descent (30 steps) to the downstairs hall. There was only one lone nightlight shining in that long hallway, and I could feel my courage draining rapidly, but NO. God damn it. This is MY house and any intruder better...

 That little pep talk from the dark recesses of somewhere inside me SHOULD have made me feel better, more confident, UP AND ATTEM fighting mad...
ALAS, no it didn't but I plunged ahead anyway, stopping to listen every couple of steps to see if I could hear anything but no I couldn't. Now, I am not usually prone to fits of overarching fear but here I was...embarking on a mission I would call dubiously safe at best...AND I was starting to sweat big time, and I could feel my heart also beginning to race as I could hear it pounding...

 POUNDING...

 in my chest and for a second I stopped, struggling a bit to catch my breath.
"WAIT, WHAT WAS THAT?"
I wondered to myself, not wanting to say it out loud but I thought I had heard something...but WHAT?
Then silence. Stony silence, and after a moment of TOTAL FEAR again overtaking me, I resolved to stop listening to myself and 'GO FOR IT.'

 God I was shaking, Shaking and sweating, just as the hall lights flickered a bit. 

 "WHAT? WHAT was THAT?" I shuddered and damn near had a stroke but before I could think that or anything else they came back on full blast and frankly that is not unusual in this big old house. The wiring at times flutters a bit and I have been told it is nothing to worry about and it is common in these 100+ year old houses. I fully intend to have the entire house re-wired in time but that is an incredibly difficult and expensive process believe me....

 At the moment, that little peppy did NOTHING to assauge my trembling hands and now I began to wish I had brought a flashlight or even a lantern, but ahh. They are all downstairs. Big help.

 The shadows on the walls seemed suddenly ominous. Once I thought I saw one move just ever so slightly...and I shuddered. Creepy settled over me like icing melting slightly on a warm cake and I shut my eyes for a minute. 


That helped. No it didn't and I quivered almost losing my grip on the bat, my palms being sweaty and that was being oh so not helpful.
"WAIT" There it was again, but what? WHAT? I KNOW I heard something....

 "OH GOD...PLEASE...HELP ME", I prayed and that is not my usual modus operandi except in moments of extreme peril or fear such as I have now found myself in. I am not even too sure God knows my name or remembers me. Heaven knows I don't talk to him much but of course I was resolving right now to change that and FROM NOW ON BY GOD, I am going to be a total pest in the God dept. OH HELL yes, Just get me through tonight, and I SWEAR...
but of course God and I have been through this before. OH YES, like that time my car died on a dark country road and there was no cell service. OH did I get close to God right then and there and for a few minutes He and I were just the bestest of Buddies...that is until this tow truck appeared out of nowhere coming back from a tow and it is always amazing to me how fast one can forget God once the crisis passes. But he oughta be used to it by now. Ok, trust me. THAT was a story I must share sometime but RIGHT NOW...

 Ok God, mi amor, old friend and pal and buddy? See I may be in a bit of a jam here and right about now I SURE AS HELL could use...

 Ok let me rephase that. I could SURE AS FUCK...ok, maybe I better rephase that...
OH FUCK...damn. See, God I am sorry. I am a bit rusty at this prayer thing...But I will be DAMNED if I will die in my bed a helpless victim of some monster...
Right about then I heard a noise. 

 OH YES INDEEDY I heard a noise.

 Sounded like from the kitchen at the back of the house but I couldn't be sure. OH HELL, I think I will just go back to bed and whoever it is can just make themselves a sammich and I won't even charge them...
FUCK!
What the hell do I do now?
Honey, why did you have to go to London? Go and leave me all alone? GOD I need you. Yeh, I know school is important and all, but...
Sigh.

 See, I have had THIS conversation before too and of course it never gets me anywhere. But can I go another year like this? Two and a half months in the summer and then gone again and I am left alone to miss THE FUCK out of you? 

 "Damnit honey,"...
but of course I never tell HIM that. I know he would just worry more and he doesn't need that and so...

 Doesn't help either that he told me he is swamped with homework  right now leading up to finals, and papers and stuff so NO telephone calls or internet rendezvous until this is over, probably couple of weeks...and FUCK I miss him. BAD. 

 Damn, at least normally I can at least TALK to him every day, but now? No. Crap! 

 ON MY OWN, boys and girls, and we can clearly see how well that works out can't we.

 Of course by now I have managed to get about half way down the stairs and that is being generous. But hey...
Then again, another noise.
I must have jumped a foot and damn near lost my balance and wouldn't that have been a cute headline. World-renowned writer/journalist falls down his own stairs and breaks his neck. BUT he was adorable to the end as he lay in a big pile of..
SHIT...

 NO NONONONO...
FUCK 
DAMMIT, MIND, stop. I...

 Ok, about that world-renowned all high and mighty big mucky muck writer CRAP. Makes me sound all grown up and mature doesn't it.

 BUT I AM NOT, goddamn it. I am in truth just a really tall 8 year old with a husband and a big old house and plaques on the wall, and awards...

 Ok, I am 27 and a busy beaver, BUT, that does NOT make me grown up OR mature. SO THERE.

 NAHAHAHAHAH, and I stuck my tongue out for emphasis. Which kinda underscored my point. LOL.

 FUCK! I do SOO not want to be here. I hear Tahiti is nice this time of year. Maybe the Basque areas of Europe. I have always wante...

 NO?

 FUCK! Drat, coises, Of all the goldanged dadratted consarned...Oh well.
I stood on the stairs, sputtering a bit for a second or twelve...and then decided it was now or never.

ONWARD AND DOWNWARD, and OH I DO SO HOPE that is not downward to HELL. Amazingly and before I knew it or could stop myself I was at the bottom step and only one more step and I would be in the downstairs hallway which runs from the Grande Foyer at the front of the house to the kitchen at the rear. Wide, bright and airy during the day cause of the skylights I had put in along the far side of the hallway after I bought this place. It has padded benches and comfy chairs here and there and the off-white paneling with a festive wallpaper above sets it all off I think rather nicely. But right now, it was only lit by one small nightlight, and had a look and a feel of foreboding to my presently addled mind.
GOD I want Ryan. I NEED my dude...BAD. I am SO NOT GOOD at this kind of crap. He is SO much better. Hell, even the cat, and by the way where IS he...hmmmm.

 and with that I started to quietly shed a tear or TWO THOUSAND.

 FUCK I do NOT need to fall apart at the moment. I don't think the burglars will be all that impressed with my waterworks, although...

 I made the last step and as I hit the hallway floor with both feet and turned toward the rear, I could see lights on in the kitchen. I KNOW I had turned them off as always before going up to bed. So how in the hell can they all be on now? Full blast as they say? Cat isn't too good with light switches yet. Doors, yes. Switches not so much. But he is a bright little sucker. I figure give him a year and he will be able to open bank vaults...affording me the luxury of having enough money to, ummmm...ok, nm.

 (Amazing how a warped sense of humor can get you through the toughest times, although perhaps not THIS one).

 It had turned quiet. Eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that sends shivers up even Frankenstein's spine...I assume he had one of those. OR HITLER. Did Hitler have a spine? I wonder. I just must ask his mother nex...fuck.

 MIND wherefore art thou mind. Off to the south of France? How nice. DO tell De Gaulle...wait he is dead isn't he. Pity. I rather imagine he isn't too thrilled with that dead thing either. 

STOP! But then when DO I ever listen to myself. The answer RIGHT AFTER THESE IMPORTANT WORDS FROM...

 someone I can't remember...probably from General Motors or Bayer Aspirin or Fruit Loops, and speaking of Fruit Loops...

 I could feel my heart racing and I felt TERROR like I have never known before. I was shaking and sweating and I could feel my heart pounding something fierce inside my chest inside my robe, and I stopped...
"TOO DAMN FUCKING QUIET IN HERE," I screamed SILENTLY!  

 So as not to wake the burglars I presume.

 "OH GOD, NO PLEASE...DON'T LET ME DIE TONIGHT.  PLEASE. NOT IN THIS ROBE, let me go pick out a nicer one...NO? FUCK!

 PLEASE.
I DON'T WANT TO DIE, or at least I don't want to be there when it happens. BUT PLEASE...See, I have that awards thing next month and I SO want to be..."

 Good God I am incorrigible. Here I am about to meet my inpending doom and I am thinking more about a journalism awards ceremony and my prize than about my death at the hand of a person or persons unknown. Well, I MEAN, it IS an important honor and I just got a new tux and...SERIOUSLY...
BUT, as they say, if it is your time, by jove...and I DO so hate that saying.
Just then I heard another noise which sounded almost like someone singing...but, no. C'mon. I MEAN...

WHO IN THE FUCK SINGS WHILE ROBBING A HOUSE...

 An out of work Opera singer just trying to get by? Hardly seems likely. We are a thousand miles away from THE MET and last I heard they are doing rather well. SOOOOO...

 The Mormon Tabernacle Choir on furlough?

 I KNOW. BEYONCE just happened to be in the neighborhood and...felt like...

 Singing?
Or is that a mating call to a partner in crime? Calling for more ammo for the weapons? Perhaps a form of communication...warning someone else of ME about to be bursting on the scene and anyone FOOL ENOUGH to think they can take ME on...

 OH PULEEZE.
Even I don't buy that.
BUT...what IS it?

Ryan? Please help me PLEASE...
GOD I miss you honey. 
_______________


 CONTINUE TO CHAPTER II





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