Re: The Hand in the Window...

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Posted by Michaelson from em12-686.utsi.edu on March 29, 1999 at 10:14:35:

In Reply to: The Hand in the Window... posted by Truly ashame of myself--Deirdre on March 28, 1999 at 23:56:25:

:
: I really am. Ashame of myself that is *blush*. My self-esteem has shrunk considerably since this very morning. I wonder why I am even posting this (yeah, why am I?)

: Being an avid admirer of of Indy (to put it mildly) and his ingenius ways of handlig situations, I am ashame of myself that I actually failed to think of something ingenius myself in my uh...predicament.

: The story is this, you see.

: I went home for the Holidays(last Friday) to that big old house of my Mother. And as always, my quarters would be situated at the topmost of the house (I guess I've always loved the mysterious thrill of climbing up those steep stairs leading to the the terrace that surroundes a little cozy room just below the roof).

: Anyway, last night I slept late and forgot to switch-off the light in my room. I'd been lying on my bed, surrounded by stacks of books and my notes which I needed for inspiration and reference, as I was scribbling on my novel (a future bestseller for sure!). I don't qute remember what time it was, when I dozed off.

: Hours later, I awoke from strange noises.
: Until now I am not sure just what it was.

: It sounded like some dripping sound, or like some chair being dragged across the floor, if not the sound of fingers tapping in succession on the rooftop. Since it had rained heavily the night before, I dismissed it as the rainwater dripping down from the drainpipes.

: So, I hugged my blanklet closer around me and dozed off again. But not for long.

: Half-awake, I suddenly heard something fall. As I could later recall it was my clothes' hanger, which I have hung on a hook along with my leather rucksack, located just beside the window.

: Squinting I stared at the window ledge. What was that white moving object? With my left hand I groped for my eyeglasses(I'm nearsighted) and put them on.

: Disbelievingly I stared openmouthedly at a white hand in the window. It was clutching the top of my rucksack unsuccessfully trying to remove my bag from the hook.

: (At this part, I need to explain that our window is more of a loaver (did I spell that right?) and its slits open only to about 5-8 inches wide)

: So there I was, clad in my pajamas, lying like paralyzed on my bed, about 2 meters away from the intruder, goosepimples running down my spine and just...er...staring at that..that...hand!

: ...what did the great Deirdre Campbell do?!?

: She screamed.

: I mean, I made a pretty faint attempt at it. It came out more of a sort of half-croak, half-shriek (unlike those great soprano screams you hear on those wonderfullt scary horror movies of Jennifer Love Hewitt). My scream was however loud enough to scare the burglar that he let go off my belonging.

: Frantically I shouted some more and knocked on the thin glass window seperating my room from the interior of the main house. *blush* I actually, this sounds so childish, shouted for my Mother!*blush scarlet*.

: And guess what?

: She didn't hear me. She was probably dreaming of that delicious fruit salad she raved about and saw on TV last nite.*snicker*

: For a moment, I lay silently in my room. Listening. Was he(it was a he for sure) gone?

: Then I heard a low cough...HE WAS STILL ON THE BALCONY OUTSIDE MY ROOM!

: Unable to restrain myself, I nearly knocked out the glass of the window, on my side of the bed as I furiously tapped and knocked. FINALLY I heard the room of my Mother open, and hear her call out and ask what was wrong. I told her. Calmly she told me to stay put and added "-ok, I'll get my gun." (I didn't know she had one!) I also heard someone scramble off the terrace...

: Suddenly I felt sheepish. Sheepish that I had behaved so... childish! My embarrassment escalated even more as I came down to find the house keeper (who'd been up since an hour already) giving me a haughty indifferent look that said as much as: "BIG DEAL!" or "No-wonder-someone-tried-to-steal-your-bag-which-you-so-temptingly-displayed-beside-the-window!"

: The earth should swallow me alive!

:
: WHAT WOULD INDY HAVE DONE?/b>

: Probably he would have slipped out his pocketknife and chopped-off the thief's fingers... Or perhaps got out of the room calmly, approach the guy from the back and say:

: "Mind me asking just what you are doing?"

: or

: "Do you need a hand with that?"


:
: Hah!
: --->Deirdre
: (Campbell)

:
: ---------
: The irony of life..

Nothing to be ashamed about at all. No one knows how they'll react from one encounter to the next. If that ever happened again (God forbid), you could react in a completely different manner. Being a Monday morning quarterback is easy. Being brought out of a dead sleep to have something completely out of the norm occuring around you is bad enough. That's why police train to react without thought, but to a given situation. Don't berate yourself for this, for heaven's sake. Use it as a learning experience. We're ALL glad it turned out the way it did. Regards. Michaelson


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