Our Neighbours

Jess in the morning said: Someone’s moved in next to us, down there in the gully a bit. I heard them coming through the poplars middle of the night, and there was a light too, swinging so much it made me feel right sick. Goddamn stupidest time to move. One of them’s in there this morning too, coughing away like an old engine. You heard nothing? Really, or you just saying that? The wind kept me up too, I suppose. And it’s colder all of a sudden. Here, feel my hand. Though I’m not as worried about the food going off any more. That salami should be good a while yet. No, I never do shut up, actually. It keeps me fucking warm, dunnit? And anyway, I thought I might walk into town along the trail. I have enough for a tea, and Jon had luck in the ferry line-up Monday, someone delivering too much bread to the bakery. They gave him a whole pack of rolls. I never heard of such a thing. Coals to Newcastle, am I right? My feet ache, though, something rotten. Look at them. They’re like two old salmon. You hear that? Listen. It’s the new guy, coughing again. Christ, he’ll give up a lung that way. I hope it’s nothing serious.