This Evening

I was sitting on my couch, watching the news. The newscaster was talking about the Senate’s debate over the health care bill. Suddenly she stopped and looked straight ahead. She didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

Then she said, “You don’t seem to be enjoying this. It’s making it hard to do my job.”

I thought, “Is she talking to me?” My heart was beating loudly. I said, “Are you talking to me?”

She said, “Yes. Why are you watching if you’re not enjoying this?”

I said, “I don’t know, I mean I was thinking I needed to be more informed about what’s going on and -“

She sighed. She said, “Just turn it off. Seriously, this is not helping.”

I said, “Um, okay.” I turned off the TV. I felt really strange. I’ve never had that happen before. I kind of sat there for a little while.

Then I got up. I went outside to my backyard. It was pitch black. My eyes weren’t adjusted. I looked up at the stars. The city lights made it so I could only see some of them. But they were pleasing to look at.

I looked over at my neighbor’s house. He was watching TV. I saw the screen. It was the same newscaster. She was delivering the news. Suddenly she stopped and stood up. She pointed and said something. My neighbor opened his window and said, “Excuse me, but the newscaster asked me to ask you to please stop watching.”

I said, “I’m sorry.”

I went back to looking at the stars.