GOOD NEIGHBOURS
- Jun 26
- 1 min read
By Ruth Hutton
Your house loomed above my garden,
Your dead, wolf eyes stalked me through the windows.
Even in sunlight, your house was dark.
Flowers flailed, like leftover innards.
You invited me in with a misleading humour and down to earthiness that I admired.
Charisma oozing, impeccable chitchat, offering stories of a shared life.
A vile, handsome couple. The crunch - we work with kids.
I was prey from the outset. We live upstairs in this house.
Sunday afternoon drinks. My goodness, don’t we have a lot in common?!
He was watching me like an animal.
Haven’t you got good legs?
Compliant, I had to become. I thought I was a fighter.
Instead, accepting lewd questions and caresses, glass refills that spilled over with my fear.
(Don’t let it show!)
Your dark presence invaded my home ever after.
Your wolfish pants sliced through the bricks.
Thank you for the invite.