the box

Whistle in the Wind

Today I sent the whistle. But the events preceding this moment were bizarre. The whole day has just been littered with a crazy amount random occurrences. Firstly, my phone has been ringing off the hook since I finished it. The most common calls, real estate companies. I wonder if the cash deposit rang some alarm that I had money to spend.

the weather

Real Estate Agents from everywhere in America are practically begging me to move out to them. This one company even offered to pay half of real estate for me.

Then when I left, I smelled the worst thing in my life. I looked down, and that cat was in front of my neighbor’s door, dead. I knocked several times, but they wouldn’t open, I didn’t hear a single thing out of them. To be respectful, I went back in my house and unfolded a napkin on the cat.

Then I was on my way, and my car wouldn’t start. Nothing, it felt dead. I popped the hood to see what the problem was, and somebody had scrapped my car. They took the battery and cut brake lines and completely decommissioned my car.

So I had to walk. Each step I took was hell; it was so hot, and I kept sweating everywhere, but I didn’t have to walk far. My shadow stretched far ahead of me as I finally got to the post office. Then it was your average post office. Then I waited in line.

After a few people, I found my way to the front where a postal worker was paying more attention to the clock than me. I stated that it was a whistle and had to be at this place as soon as possible. He opened the package and held the whistle in his hand, and then his phone rang. He apologized and took it, then after a moment a different worker finished and apologized citing some personal emergency.

It’s none of my business what classifies as an emergency as long as the package gets sent. But this new guy was a little weird. He pulled out the whistle and told me how beautiful it was. Then it got sent, and I went home. The walk home was just uneventful and whatever, but when I got home, I heard on the news that the very same post office, was shot up in some disgruntled postal worker spree.

what's on

Just an crazy day. So now I guess it’s like any other day now. I sit here, and I watch tv. It was fun having the whistle to work on; it might be my best work yet. But what do I do in the mean time? Do I just sit here plugging away on the blog? I think I will. Or maybe I should try and talk to my neighbors again. I’m not sure. I think I’ll take a nap.

Alan Macey

I am a whistle maker working out of Miami. Born from Wisconsin, I have decided to leave my home behind in search of a newer brighter future with much less snow. I have no one to survive me except for my mother and my sister.