the note

you find a hand
written note
on your door
when you arrive
home from work.
but you don't read
it. you'd rather
not. you'd
rather believe
in what the note
might say. you
are an optimist.
and this makes
you feel good,
not reading the
note. and you
decide suddenly
to live your life
this way, to ignore
all notes, all
forms of
communication that
could take you down
a dark road. you
want the note
to be one of
praise, one of
luck and hope,
one of renewed
love and affection.
so you fold the note
and place it in your
shirt pocket. you
feel that the note
is a blessing of
some sort, that
life has changed
for the better.
and then you go to
your car to leave,
but the engine won't
start. and you take
the note out of
your pocket, unfold
it and read it
and it says 'you
left your headlights
on, we knocked,
but you weren't
home. sorry.'