My neighbour next door lives in a
hut. It’s not really a house; just a bunch of sticks constructed into a shelter
on a piece of grass. His garden consists of discarded tins, papers, and rotting
food, all of which is randomly dotted around the overgrown lawn. As you hang on
the edge debating with yourself as to whether to set foot on his turf to
persuade him to tidy up a bit; you get a sense of something present watching
you inside the hut. A small steady burst of steam is streaming up into the sky;
and you can smell plastic fumes filtering out into the neighbourhood. There
seems to be a lot of movement around the hut; and it’s hard to say whether it’s
some rodent come to investigate this new intruder or the man himself. Finally
he rises, wearing only a loin cloth, and stares at you with large unblinking
eyes.
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