The Stranger
Angela Kleespies
June 12, 2007
I think somebody was in the basement last night. It could've been the wind, but I thought I heard something fall to the floor. Maybe not. Maybe I just need to get out of this house for a while. Yeah, I'm just going stir crazy in here. I think I'll go down to Tj's and pick up some flowers, maybe some roses today. That girl, I think her name is Patty. I think she thinks I'm cute. She smiled at me the whole time I was there last time. I like her long, red hair. It looks like a sunset. I almost asked her if I could touch it. I think about picking her up after work one day and taking her someplace special. She's a doll. Anyway, I'm glad I got this house. It's nice. I think I'll draw some new pictures for the walls, but I miss my friends. I think I'll draw one of her.
June 17, 2007
There is someone down there. I feel their eyes on me, watching me. They're taking my food out of the frig. I'm missing a ham and the apple pie I bought at Safeway on Wednesday. I went down there this morning. I took the table lamp. I was going to smack them with it, but they were hiding. I should to go to the cops, but what will I say? Somebody's stealing my food? No. Maybe I'll just try talking to them. They're loudest at night. I lock my bedroom door now cause they wander around the house at night and turn on all the lights.
June 19, 2007
You Motherfucker. I' should cut your goddamn heart out. Don't you remember me? You should. Remember Sheila.? I do. Squatting down pissing on the cold cement with a coat hanger dangling out her throat—the stench of urine and blood running down the fucking basement drain while the bitch's mouth was gaped open blowing out her last breath in pink bubbles. You only thought you left me in St. Louis.
June 20, 2007
He stole my journal yesterday to threaten me with. If I die and anyone reads this, I DON'T KNOW THIS MAN. He's following me around the house. He's probably been through all my things. Are you reading this? Who are you?
June 24, 2007
I sat up last night talking to him through the walls and then this morning he told me if I'd show him the attic, he'd leave me alone. I don't think I can trust him. And I don't think he likes me, but I'm sort of used to having him around now. I don't think he'd hurt me or he would've already. And it gets lonely around here and I left most of my toys in St. Louis, but they were broken anyway. I asked him his name finally. He said Jim and I said that's my name. And then I told him he could play with my new toy with the long red hair.
I think somebody was in the basement last night. It could've been the wind, but I thought I heard something fall to the floor. Maybe not. Maybe I just need to get out of this house for a while. Yeah, I'm just going stir crazy in here. I think I'll go down to Tj's and pick up some flowers, maybe some roses today. That girl, I think her name is Patty. I think she thinks I'm cute. She smiled at me the whole time I was there last time. I like her long, red hair. It looks like a sunset. I almost asked her if I could touch it. I think about picking her up after work one day and taking her someplace special. She's a doll. Anyway, I'm glad I got this house. It's nice. I think I'll draw some new pictures for the walls, but I miss my friends. I think I'll draw one of her.
June 17, 2007
There is someone down there. I feel their eyes on me, watching me. They're taking my food out of the frig. I'm missing a ham and the apple pie I bought at Safeway on Wednesday. I went down there this morning. I took the table lamp. I was going to smack them with it, but they were hiding. I should to go to the cops, but what will I say? Somebody's stealing my food? No. Maybe I'll just try talking to them. They're loudest at night. I lock my bedroom door now cause they wander around the house at night and turn on all the lights.
June 19, 2007
You Motherfucker. I' should cut your goddamn heart out. Don't you remember me? You should. Remember Sheila.? I do. Squatting down pissing on the cold cement with a coat hanger dangling out her throat—the stench of urine and blood running down the fucking basement drain while the bitch's mouth was gaped open blowing out her last breath in pink bubbles. You only thought you left me in St. Louis.
June 20, 2007
He stole my journal yesterday to threaten me with. If I die and anyone reads this, I DON'T KNOW THIS MAN. He's following me around the house. He's probably been through all my things. Are you reading this? Who are you?
June 24, 2007
I sat up last night talking to him through the walls and then this morning he told me if I'd show him the attic, he'd leave me alone. I don't think I can trust him. And I don't think he likes me, but I'm sort of used to having him around now. I don't think he'd hurt me or he would've already. And it gets lonely around here and I left most of my toys in St. Louis, but they were broken anyway. I asked him his name finally. He said Jim and I said that's my name. And then I told him he could play with my new toy with the long red hair.
copyright 2007 Fear Knocks
Angela Kleespies is a down home girl with no problem in mixing literary prose with the likes of Stephen King and Clive Barker. She is a MFA student at the infamous Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado, and like most writers, would like to make a coin or two in her endeavors. Angela also has been known to stalk-for-poetry and has disguised herself as the famous Anne Waldman (right) in hopes of scoring a line or two.