I hear them coming. First the stomps and snickers on the path to my door. Then the sharp knock.
I rouse myself, ready for them. The neighbours last week. Now, me. I’ve been expecting them. They could call on me, so of course they called on me.
And why not now? If not now, well, they’d be back.
A pair of smirking ‘let’s fuck up his weekend, why don’t we’ fa…
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