Thursday, November 6, 2014 

It’s raining. The clocks have been changed for a week now. I thought I could get up early and get some editing done. Guess again.

Mom is seeing men in the trees.

Who are those men?

There are no men in the trees, mom. (No time to placate her. I need to get some work done.)

Well, they’re walking up in the trees.

Think about it, mom. Men can’t walk from treetop to treetop.

Oh. Can they get in here?

No, you have to come inside to open the windows. They’re locked. 

What other story can I give her? What else can I say? There are no men up in the trees. Whatever she sees, I am not privy to. But this goes on and on and on. Her insistence will not end.

Rob!

Mom, what do you want? Rob is still asleep.

Oh. I wanted to know what those men are doing up in the trees.

Mom, I told you. There is no one up in the trees. Now, I have closed the shutters. You cannot see anything or anyone. So why don’t you go back to sleep?

Well, I was afraid they would come in.

Since there aren’t any men up there—you see the tree is moving in the wind and it’s raining out there—you won’t have to worry about them coming in!

Oh. Well, I thought…

No. Go back to sleep. 

I might get a few minutes reprieve. But I can already feel my chest tightening.