We had strange neighbours. We would hear them vacuuming or moving furniture in the middle of the night when the rest of the world would be asleep. They never really spoke to us either, tending to avoid eye-contact and would just grunt if any of us greeted them.
Outside our front door, we had a crate containing empty milk bottles. One evening, we heard their front door open then the unmistakeable clinking sound of milk bottles in our crate and then, moments later, their front door closing again. After ten minutes or so, I went to check in the crate and found this. There is no further information or explanation. We moved out a couple of weeks later.
My boyfriend Trevor noticed this on the bulletin board in the communal laundry room of our apartment complex. The story was proudly thumb-tacked to the board (in the order of author, story, and then title) for everyone to read. While the pride and joy that Tiffany clearly took in writing and displaying this made me smile, the story is a worthwhile read as well.
I was picking up sticks and other small articles prior to mowing my lawn when I found this nicely folded up piece of paper sitting in the grass, still wet from the morning watering. The paper is a vellum bristol making it substantial enough to stand up to moisture. The characters were produced on a typewriter yet the piece doesn’t appear to be very old.