Almost weekly, as I lay in my bed, I hear the groups of raccoons outside my window fight for the scraps of human food that has been carelessly left out or exposed. They sound as if someone is ripping each nail from their extremities. I feel a need to seek the truth behind these noises, so I silently creep to my windows edge and strain to observe the sources of those noises. In the pitch black, my vision is rarely helpful, but the longer I sit, the stronger my hearing becomes. I sit for what seems like a short amount of time, but then glance back at my clock.
I keep getting lost in what I can't see.
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