More screaming

It happened again last night. At 2:30 in the morning, in a deep sleep, I sense a presence looming over me. I crack my eyes, my thoughts still randomly moving like the unseated ball bearings in plastic tilting novelties. The thought, the recognitions begin to fall, one in each hole. My self, my solitude, my bed, my wakefulness, my vision. There is a tall figure, caped, standing just over me. I shriek - loudly. Very loudly. I kick at the intruder. My foot's karate jab catches in the curtain that hangs next to my bed. I still do not know what has happened.
"Who is that? What is going on?" I ask in a conversational, a reasonable tone, almost expecting an answer. I reach up to turn on the light. The switch is not easily reached. I slept for ten years with the light of a Nelson bubble lamp which hung in the room outside my bed-closet. Now I sleep in pitch blackness. That may have to change. The curtains moved in the fan's breeze I suppose.... brushed against my face maybe.
The adrenalin kept me up for an hour. My throat was raw again, painfully, and still is. I dont know that it was less upsetting that no one was there. Last time, it was sort of nice to see Kyle, even if we only talked for an hour or so before he went to sleep and I went to work.
I tried to nap again, after waking at 9 but there was an unholy roar, unlike anything else. It was the practice runs for the Blue Angels, a synchronised jet-flying troupe. They must have been a few hundred feet above my roof.
They are gone soon enough. I have to decide whether to walk the two blocks to the lake this weekend. This poverty has kept me virtually housebound for weeks. Now that the paychecks are beginning to come in, I have acquired the habit of not going out. Zara, my neighbor has parked a car in her yard, charging $15. She asked if I wanted to have someone park in my driveway. I said sure but let her keep the money. I am blocked in until they leave.
The Blue Angels are so close overhead. It is an unanticipated an unexpected thrill to see teh planes paas so close and move so quickly above your head.
"Yay! Killing machines!" I chant and clap my hands. Not terribly serious. Not really.