Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Blanket Cobb

Blanket Cobb woke up on a Sunday morning to a loud hooting noise. The noise was extremely obnoxious and the opposite of every cute hooting sound he had ever heard from nice little owls. It was coming from across the room, so he got out of his bed and shuffled across the floor of his bedroom to the window that looked out onto Sam Street. A large, prehistoric-looking bird with a bright orange beak stared back at him from its perch on the windowsill outside. Blanket Cobb banged on the glass with his fist. The bird glared at him and let out another long hoot before spreading it's wings and gliding down the street into the crusty fountain at the intersection of Sam, Maple, and Calloway. Cobb watched the animal flap around in the dirty water for a couple of minutes before he got back into bed and went to sleep for the rest of the day. When he awoke again it was almost six o clock and the air in his apartment smelled like stale dirt, so he cracked the one and only window and walked downstairs to pick up some food across the street.
Blanket was not a Watershed Heights native. He had arrived in the neighborhood to take care of his cancer and bed-sore ridden mother, and he ended up staying to collect her social security check that still came every month despite the fact that she had been rotting underground for several years now.