this morning #849.

this morning, through thin, white walls all i could hear was a series of sharp, sour sounds. repeating. unfamiliar. chilling. somewhere between a laugh & a scream. half joy. half horror. what’s more, i was pretty sure that nobody lived on the other side. one day, the quiet old man who’d lived there for decades sat down in his recliner, passed on & sat there until a foul odor brought his presence to my attention. as far as i knew, the place had been empty ever since. these unnerving noises had me wondering if i’d missed something. it only took a rap on the wall & the loudest growl i’d ever heard to know there was certainly something there. it may alive. it may be dead. it definitely wasn’t just in my head.