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The Block…



Waaaaaaaaaaaalter!!  WALTER!!

The old man didn’t bother answering his wife’s call, knowing that her hearing was as bad as she was loud, in general. She had probably deafened her own self, over the years. That thought amused him, and he walked to her chair by the window with a smirk.

Yes, Darlin’, what is it? Do you need to go to the bathroom?

Margareth would probably have been able to keep her full mobility, if she hadn’t refused so stubbornly to use the wheelchair her doctor had gotten for them. Instead, Walter needed to come and help her to her walker, and make the short trip with her whenever she wished to move from room to room.

He didn’t mind, though. Even after the fifty two years spent by her side, he still loved her dearly. He had long learnt to deal with Margareth’s jumpy mood, and he had his own flaws that she had put up with.

No… Silly, I just went half an hour ago, are you getting senile?? 

She had no filter, but there was absolutely no anger in her statement. He knew that.

It’s that young man that moved in, a couple of days back… You remember, right?

He nodded, sitting by her side. She loved watching over the neighbourhood from their livingroom window. God only knew what she would come up with, this time, so he sat comfortably and took her hand in his.

Of course, Marge… What about him?

She tossed the curtain to the side, and bent forward, looking at the huge garbage bin on the building’s yard. After a long stare, she turned to Walter again, and started to talk about how suspicious the new neighbour was, in her opinion.

Walter listened closely, used to her fear of strangers. She always thought that people meant to hurt them, steal from them, or do them any other kind of wrong things. She had always been like this, but it was getting worse as the years passed by.

When they lived in the countryside, she handled it much better. Of course, their closest neighbours were miles away, back then. Living in the city had made her incredibly nervous, but he could not take the chance to move her back to a home in a more rural area. They needed to be close to the hospital.

They couldn’t afford to buy a house anyway.

I swear to God, Walt, this guy has put at least three times the things he has brought with him in the dumpster. Where does he take all that stuff?? I mean, since his move, he has left the building only once, and all he brought back was a pizza box and a pack of beers! You have to find that weird!!

Of course, it was odd. But Walter was not the kind of man who jumped to conclusions. For all he knew, the stranger probably had a good reason to get rid of all this junk. He didn’t mind, but it would torment Margareth’s mind.

Don’t worry, Marge… I’ll talk to the guy. 

He patted his wife’s hand gently, giving her his most reassuring smile.

Now, what would you think about a nice cup of tea, dear?

He stood up, while Margareth kept staring through the transparent curtain. Outside, the man was by the dumpster again, with two big bags he struggled to lift into the bin.

Don’t forget the lemon, Walt!



You can read the first part of this developing series here.

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