He was a murderer.
Who else would drive a ghostly gray pick up that purred across the way every morning in the eery pre-dawn darkness. I wasn't sure of many things. But, of this I was sure.
I had suspected it for some time. I mentioned it once to my roommate.
“I think our neighbor is a murderer.”
“That’s nice," she said.
That was the end of it--until tonight.
I had gone out after dark to get a few mindless things done. Nothing really--I filled the tank, went to the bank, bought some stamps and breakfast cereal. Then I returned.
I parked in the driveway, unbuckled my belt, got out of the car, reached for the groceries, and juMPED.
WOAH WOOOOO!!!!
I whipped back to locate the source of the sound.
Nothing.
I looked up.
Out of an upstairs window, in the house across the street, through the open blinds, poured an eery, yellow incandescent light around his silhouette.
He peered at me.
I scowled.
I turned around, and then looked back.
He shut the blinds, all except for a narrow slit.
I thrust open the door threw the groceries on the floor, flipped around to secure the bolt, and bolted into the living room.
“Our neighbor’s a murderer!” I declared.
The TV hmmmed.
“That’s nice,” she replied.
Gordon Makes a Date
1 year ago
3 comments:
oh wow - I really hope your not right but this was so much fun to read
I told you to carry a switchblade.
Hopefully you're not his next target... gah, this creeps me out.
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