Let’s take a little break from me. Last night someone was murdered a few hundred yards from where I sit. The story was on the A.P. wire as of 5:01 pm today. I did not hear the gunshots; I was wearing my headphones, watching La La Land on my laptop. I’m not really into musicals, but I enjoyed it, and kudos to them for making a 2+ hour musical, complete with tap dance scene, in 2016. 

So I was distracted. But if I had heard gunshots (five or six, in rapid succession, I am told) in the evening, or any time for that matter, murder would not have entered my mind. I’ve lived in Monkton for five years; people shoot guns at most any hour. My parents hear shots on a regular basis (at all hours!) in the woods behind their house.

My mother heard the shots, soon after she had put her head down for the night. She thought it strange but not enough to get out of bed, rouse the neighbors, and mount a posse.

Two cops showed up today just as my mother was washing my hair in the kitchen sink. I have to imagine this ranks high on the excite-o-meter for a couple of Vermont policemen, but of course they hid it well, stoic and nonplussed as always. I wish they had been just a bit giddy, excited to sink their teeth into a real-life homicide, but that might be in bad taste, only to be appreciated by me and a few other dark-humor sickos. 

Of course I know very little of what actually occurred. If you’ve seen the news you know every bit as much as me. Some of the neighbors, who of course called here today to swap stories, are uneasy. 

As it happens, I’m hearing gunshots out the back right now, 9:36 pm. Not in quick succession, more spaced out, like a far-off rifle. 

I’m on his (the victim’s) Facebook page, we have a mutual friend. The comments are of course beyond sad and make me want to delete this entire heartless post. I fear I’ve made light of a dark and disturbing occurrence. That was not my intent. I only meant to describe my view of an unusual day on Gilman Road.