Nighttime Throwaways

It was 2 am and he was hungry. He paced up and down the carpeted floor of his living room. He was hungry, but for what? Cereal? A sandwich? Maybe even some chips and some pop, that sounded kinda good. He knew he'd pay hell for that decision in the morning, but damnit, he began salivating.

A sudden clang from outside jolted him. He walked over to the window and peered outside. Two men were dragging a trash bag - an awfully full trash bag - across the street over to the dumpster out back behind the apartment complex. It really pissed him off when people who didn't live at the complex used its facilities. I'm thinking of you, makeup-caked lady who constantly blocks my parking space with your car. And who the hell takes trash out at 2 am, anyway? Course, who eats at 2 am? Perhaps people who work night jobs. Duh.

"Chuggah-chuggah-chuggah" A low, rumbling musical sound, coming from the video that played on the TV behind him, caused his head to begin bobbing up and down softly as he continued his watch over the two men. He wanted to crank the volume - he loved the song, the band - but didn't, for fear he'd wake his family or other neighbors. Unlike the two men outside, who'd just slammed the dumpster lid shut with an echoing "BLAM!", he had consideration for those who weren't occasionally, if not fully functioning, night owls. Besides, the soft volume and the spacey, sci-fi-ish sounds, combined with that "chuggah-chuggah", gave the whole event a slightly eerie, unsettling feel as the two men scurried away (almost to the beat at times), breaking up and taking different routes.

Odd. The man at the window furrowed his brow at that curious move, but before he could think any further, a yawn came to remind him to forget food, the men, or the music and go back to bed. On his way, he shut off the TV as a different song now finished, a lovelorn pop tune about, what else, broken hearts, a guy wallowing in misery at losing his lady love. And who hasn't been there?, the man thought as he shuffled into the room where his wife slept soundly, dead to the world. He crawled into bed, set his glasses on the bedside table, and soon fell into a somwhat comfortable sleep of his own.

The next morning, a battering ram of a knock came at his door.