endless sleepy stories about nothing

sirens blast by my window close to three or four times a day. more often than not, it's the fire department responding to a fire alarm in one of the residences here. the alarm, in turn, is usually the result of some jackass prank by a bunch of people maruading as almost adults.

such fascination. they lick their lips, checking over first their left and then their right shoulders. then the snap of the glass and the grasping of the handle. it's yanked down, and suddenly that luscious highpitched screeching sound intermittantly fills the halls and the rooms branching off of those corridors.

i always ask myself the same question when we're yanked out of of warm rooms at some obscene hour.

"what if there's some cat lady somewhere who's house really is on fire? and the firefighters are here, responding to a jackass prank?"

the world moves in mysterious ways.