Robbers banging on my door

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My awareness of the outer world is often surprisingly dim. My usual excuse is that my attention is always on my mindís eye. A oblique way of saying I pay too much attention to my inner life to be much aware of the outside.

This morning at the bookshop Gordon came in and asked what happened? Nothing that I knew of until I saw the cassette tapes he was pointing at. A bunch of cassette tapes had mysteriously jumped from their holder on the wall and were scattered over CDs and the floor.

My guess was that someone had banged senselessly on the outside wall. But there was no sign anybody had been slamming the wall with a sledgehammer.

Iíd forgotten the other door. Books Do Furnish A Room is two old buildings, Army barracks, jammed together. We cut out the most of the wall years ago and anymore I think of it as one very long building. Looking again outside I saw the other door was a quarter inch short of being tightly shut.

Someone had beat on the door forcibly enough to knock the deadbolts through the doorframe. Luckily on the inside thereís a wooden frame and a CD rack with a few hundred pounds of back stock books. Probably not even Paul Anderson (a fellow from Georgia who had the reputation of being the strongest man in the world) could open the door. The traction is great and the motion of the door would shove the rack up against a wall at the side.

Wonder if this was the same one that robbed us several months back forcing us to spend several hundred dollars to replace the other door.

We pay Duke Power for three outside pole lights but our part of West Markham Avenue is deserted at night.

Thankfully nobodyís ever come in with a gun. We might get shot for having so little cash on hand.

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