2 minutes 11 seconds| Esquivel on the High Plains.
This is the second piece I composed in Garageband, following Provocateur. Neither of these compositions has a solid time stamp before March of 2009, but assuredly both were started no later than February. Cowboy likely stayed a fragment for a while, and in all probability one or more pieces were finished before it was polished off.
Novel-in-Progress, excerpt 67| Lowell later dreams that night:
The impression first intruded on a dream, of which Lowell could not separate a particular instance of it until the second of his waking. Prior, he thought he watched his bedroom door, which he had failed to pull to, sway back and forth but never properly open. A strong draft was not responsible for this since a repeated tapping, or swipe of something hard and nail-like, struck the door’s outside stile with each lurch.
This scratching was not excited but methodical, like a signal to rouse a sleeper to the distress of pet seeking entry into the room. This inborn understanding set Lowell to execute the task, but the counterpane draping his body became an extension of his paralysis.
The noise’s last occurrence was an imprecise memory, but its elicited emotion survived as a fearful conviction: The door had been pushed from the top of its frame and not the bottom. No dog (unless a very large one) could rear so high upon it.
A tree branch likely scraped an external wall, where it found a receptive vessel in a reverberating old house; as such this quieting logic sent the listener ambling back into light sleep.
It may have been at the end of the next REM cycle, but tapping returned with intensity, and in being fully awakened Lowell traced it to the window. There below the ledge stood a stark yet casual figure staring up at him: Howard had been throwing pebbles at the panes for sometime.
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