Sunday, evening- almost early Monday morning. I am laying in bed waiting to fall asleep. It's never a thing I've done easily and in winter, the house creaks and passing cars sound more menacing. As I am nearly asleep, I hear "sounds." They could mean my husband, who sleeps in a basement bedroom for medical reasons, is moving around. Now wide awake, I go to the window and peek through the blinds.
There he is bending over into my husband's little truck, busily shuffling things around. I stare. Was Gary outside packing ice fishing gear at nearly midnight? Then I realize, the man wearing a toque and parka, old track pants and sneakers is looking for something to steal in our truck. You never know how you will act in an emergency. I can see him clearly in the glare of the dome light. I could wait and he might show his face. I could grab my phone and photograph the culprit in mid-crime. What do I do? I rap on the window and he starts with guilt, turning quickly and well, disappearing like a thief in the night.
Yes, I'm of a certain age but I'm pretty spry and like to think still smart enough.