July Something Twenty Twelve, Anytown USA

During the previous 45 minutes, I heard a very faint knocking noise.  Assuming it was a person trying to annoyingly get my attention, I let out a meager, "Hello?"  Not unlike how Lionel Richie would say it.  "Hello?" I said again, to no response.

Minutes had passed by without a trace of human life lurking beyond the corner.  I thought maybe it was my sister, sneaking into my house and trying to be weird.  I live in a weird family with weird people.  It was possible, I thought.

*knock* ......... *knock* ...........

It was one of those noises that barely registers with your ears; just enough to get a reaction out of you but not enough for you to actually feel as though you should investigate.  If it grew to a full-on knock or an outright banging noise, I decided, I would grab the shotgun and fire a warning shot into the ceiling and/or my face by accident.  The noise remained consistently light, occasionally stopping for a few minutes before continuing again.  Still, I didn't care enough to seek it out.  It was still only a minor annoyance that was distracting me from my important #tweeting and computer work.

............................ *knock*....

I put down my sleeve of saltine crackers.  Okay, what the hell.  Is there a mouse?  Has a cat gone rogue?  I have decided to expend the necessary energy that it would take to discover what has been mildly bothering me for the better part of an hour now (meaning, I turned my head 45 degrees to the left.)  Under the wind of a ceiling fan, my hanging plastic bag of empty cans was lightly bumping against my closet door.

I miss hockey.  Go to hell, July, you big turd.