Keeking

One of my favorite words is keek. It's a Scots Gaelic word that means a quick look, a peep. I do this all the time, take a quick glance into places that are not part of my world.

I love keeking. I love the stories that are suggested by the places I see, the intimacies I inadvertently glimpse, the mysteries that are conjured up by my imagination with just these little peeks.

I go for walks at night through my neighborhood. You know how your parents always told you to close the binds? That was because of people like me. I don't care if I see you naked. I'm more interested in the glancing vision of your room as I walk by. What do you have on your walls? What music or conversation drifts out of those open windows? What did you cook for dinner dinner tonight? I don't pry, I never stop and stare (that would be a good way to attract notice) I just walk slowly by and savor the moment. And I notice.

It's my job. I'm a writer and storyteller, and these are the details that feed my creative engine.

From these details I can construct a whole world. A picture of a house tacked to a wall becomes a long lost childhood home. A door half open with clothing tumbling out becomes a hiding place for a sprite. The blue flickery light of a television set with the volume turned off becomes a silent lullaby. Who knows what else?

Come on, I know you keek too. You look to see what the person next to you on the subway is reading, you strain to read the diary of the boy in the cafe, you listen to overheard conversations. It's human nature, we want to be connected to world around us, and just assume we're unnoticed while we spy on others.

I see you seeing. Don't worry, I won't tell. Just walk by when you see me, glance over my shoulder at what I'm typing and I'll only slow down a little when I hear you talking. For what it's worth, we're all in this together, and these little bits of connection are usually better than none at all.

(c) 2007 Laura Packer