Wednesday

My neighbor has been driving golf balls against the side of an aluminum shed. He doesn’t set up right next to the shed either. He tries to hit it from a long distance. Don’t mistake me—he hasn’t drawn a bulls-eye or anything—he just aims vaguely. When a ball hits the siding or the roof, it makes a dull, resonating “gong” that has the power to rouse me from slumber. I forced my way into the shed today and ran my hand over the indentations. There must be a hundred. I have planned to drag a mattress from one of the unused beds here to prop against the siding and muffle the blow.