I’m the kind of writer who tends to be totally absorbed in what I’m working on as if on a cloud of inattentiveness to anything else.
This can prove dangerous at times or outright funny. This was especially true when I lived alone in a small housing project while in Jacksonville, Florida. Since no harm was actually done, I laughed at the absurdity.
I had just settled in to tackle long overdue writing projects when the phone rang. My neighbor had called to give me a heads up.
“Got some bad news to tell you.”
I didn’t want to hear any bad news, but something told me I needed to. “Go ahead.”
“There’s been another break-in attempt.”
“On Mother’s Day?”
“Oh, yes. About 9:30 in the evening. On the other side of you.”
“Alvin and Lourdes’s house?”
“The rascals cut the wires underneath the meter box, disarming the alarm and power. Then they tried to break-in with a screwdriver. Both Alvin and Lourdes were home at the time.”
I shivered with the realization. Not only did the attempted robbery happen within a few feet of me, I had been totally unaware what was going on. Blissfully at my computer, I hadn’t noticed a thing—not even the police and the power company when they had reportedly arrived soon after.
We laughed over my ostrich lifestyle. My wonderful neighbor said if my house catches on fire, she’ll be sure to call me and let me know so I can get out. Then again, I have a bad habit of leaving my phone somewhere else than where I’m writing.
Glad I have a Lord who knows my weakness and keeps me safe from inattentiveness.
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