-^-for posterity-^-

every night the gates close at ten thirty at night. sometimes it’s closed earlier. the guards go to sleep then.

i live in a compound. i’m perpetually surrounded by a wall that has large sticks of metal and broken glass sticking out the top of it to thwart would-be intruders. i have a nice view over the gate. i see the farmer behind me and a small graveyard. there are also fruit trees.

the front gate to our university is about eight feet tall and is painted an off-yellow. it looks like the yolk of an egg mixed with white paint. the top of the gate has spikes but it’s easy to climb over.

i’ve come back late a few times and had to wake up the guards. you have to bang on the gate and the guard trudges out of his house in his underwear. three guards live in one small house next to the gate. it has two rooms and they sleep on hammocks. the guard never looks happy and we’re never happy to do it. i begrudgingly knock and wait. i shuffle my feet and think about how stupid it is to come home late. the guard opens the gate, i apologize, he silently closes it.

i arrive safely back to my compound but i have disturbed his sleep. what if he was having a wonderful dream about slight, strawberry breezes and beautiful women. what if he was dreaming about flying and swooshing through cotton clouds. he could have been dreaming about his childhood and what fun him and his brother used to have chasing a dog around. the though makes me sick and i sleep uneasily as if i’m making up for his disturbed night.