On Sunday, right after we went to sleep around one or so, the honking started.
It would go for a while, maybe a minute, stop, and then resume. A wimpy honk, annoying like a mosquito. Right in front of our house.
I was halfway asleep, and I was dreaming of smashing the honker's windshield with a giant pick I have leaning against the fence, next to the gate. I was envisioning a drone strike hitting the most deserving target ever: the honker right outside my window.
What sort of a sick, demented being blows a horn for a half hour straight in the middle of the night in a residential neighborhood? I was dreaming of applying the giant pick all over the demented being's car, piercing the radiator, prying the tires off the rims.
And then: Bam! Bam!
Two shots, really close, into the air.
Immediately, the honking stopped. The car was trying to leave, but it wouldn't start. I looked outside — it was a maroon Saturn, cranking like crazy. It finally started and took off. A quiet night followed.
It would go for a while, maybe a minute, stop, and then resume. A wimpy honk, annoying like a mosquito. Right in front of our house.
I was halfway asleep, and I was dreaming of smashing the honker's windshield with a giant pick I have leaning against the fence, next to the gate. I was envisioning a drone strike hitting the most deserving target ever: the honker right outside my window.
What sort of a sick, demented being blows a horn for a half hour straight in the middle of the night in a residential neighborhood? I was dreaming of applying the giant pick all over the demented being's car, piercing the radiator, prying the tires off the rims.
And then: Bam! Bam!
Two shots, really close, into the air.
Immediately, the honking stopped. The car was trying to leave, but it wouldn't start. I looked outside — it was a maroon Saturn, cranking like crazy. It finally started and took off. A quiet night followed.
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