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The Woman Next Door

A quick peep out the window confirmed the sound was coming from the woman  next door.It was a strange sound – like the one the kids’ guinea pig used to make when it was hungry.

She was standing in front of a car, trying to stop it from moving. Had she been robbed? Was she nuts to stand in front of a slowly advancing car? Should I call the police?

With one final hefty hit to the hood of the car, she walked away. As the car drove off, I caught a glimpse of a man behind the wheel. Apparently it was a  lover’s spat and no harm done.

I am not a voyeur; I have an unobstructed view of the building from my kitchen window. The woman had aroused my curiosity. Why would she attempt to stop a moving car? If she had an issue with the male in her life a Louisville slugger would take care of the car. She is not a small woman. He’d think twice before confronting her shouldering a baseball bat.

The woman appears to be a fast food aficionado. Around every mealtime she enters her building lugging two  large takeout bags and a Big Gulp.

Last week I caught a glimpse of the male involved, a little bitty skinny man. He looked pitiful as he put a few belongings in a U-Haul truck and drove away. This time she made no attempt to stop him.

She continues her same mealtime routine, still carrying two take out bags and the Big Gulp.

I think the evidence points to waffle fries as  the cause of the fracas.

Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect

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JoAnn Williams

I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.

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