The Ladder

He stoped and stared. It just wasn’t a site you see every day. And it’s not even day. In an hour and a half it will be midnight. But there it is. A ladder. And not just any ladder. A ladder that that starts in the driveway and finishes on the roof of ttownhouse complex, 4 stories high. He waited at the top of the driveway, confused as to why it was still there. How come they don’t take it diwn at night. Maybe somebody is still up there, he said. His breath, that thought, a cloud of steam that hung in the air, fast disappearing. The black Labrador, at the end of the red leash, looked up momentarily, and upon discovering that this talking had nothing to do with food, returns to sniffing the snow bank around the base of the telephone pole. He waited and listened. Only sirens wailing in the distance and the crunch of the hard snow under his posts punctuate the crisp evening air. Are you even allowed to leave it up like that over night, he said outloud again. This time the black lab didn’t look up, rather lifted his leg and peed on the pole.