We’re housesitting for friends until next Wednesday. There’s no sound to be heard out here, except for the odd grunts coming from the couple of pigs, or the clucks from the chickens. The sun usually shines through the huge window panes of this two-storey log home. I truly feel refreshed after a short stint out at the A’s. Today, the rain comes and goes, the clouds chasing away the rays that are trying to pierce through the grey. To pass the time, Dave and I are sitting at the breakfast nook playing a card game.
“Sequence!” he says, lips in a semi-smile. Without a word, I throw my ten of hearts and pick up a red chip to place on the board. We were both concentrating hard, when suddenly a loud crashing sound startled us out of our game. We both looked in the direction the sound came from, Then we looked at each other, “What was that?”
I check the guest room while he noses around in the bathroom.
“I guess it must’ve come from upstairs” he says.
I trail behind Dave as we make our way up the half-logs that make up the stairs and head for the master bedroom.
“Holy Crow! It’s a good thing I wasn’t still sleeping!” The ceiling television that had been hanging in the far corner of the bedroom had tumbled onto a pile of clothes and the corner of the bed, right on the pillow where Dave’s head would’ve been had he been sleeping. The TV set surely would’ve bashed his skull in.
After helping him move the unscathed television set to the other end of the room, we head downstairs to finish our card game. It doesn’t matter who wins. We’re both grateful he escaped the Television of Damocles.