Lights are strung helter-skelter around the building’s rooftop garden.
When lit, it could be an outdoor bar in Mexico. I imagine a Mariachi quartet, plump men with thick mustaches and black sombreros embroidered with silver threads.
It’s a nice thought when the typical music is police sirens and jet engines.
Matthew Weigelt finds the best characters in McDonald’s, so he writes and eavesdrops, eavesdrops and writes, with a dollar-size sweet tea. He then goes to the gym. Someday he’ll need to find characters elsewhere. He has a YA novel, The Mysterious Matt Barnes, due out in March. See more at ReadBetweenThePages.com.
I am in greenery. I needed peace more than I knew.
Peace is the sigh of life, a sudden loosening in your body and your soul.
I sit in that park for an hour, and stand up to leave, only to see another path.
“Oh!” I breathe, prayerfully, “There’s more!”
Anna finds life to be an overwhelming cacophony of beautiful sensation. She writes so that she can capture even just a little bit of it.
People usually covered their ears, or skipped the aviary altogether. Oddly, the squawking didn’t phase the little girl or her mother. They smiled, admiring the large, colorful birds.
The zookeeper wondered how anyone could tolerate such obnoxious shrieking when suddenly the child lifted her tiny hands and signed, “Pretty feathers.”
Pontius Paiva is loud and colorful. And although he probably belongs in a cage, he’s flying high at pontiuspaiva.com
We all know them,
the ones that never stop talking
or take a breath and allow others to speak.
The men are big boors,
the women are clacking teeth.
Maybe it’s a disease,
or they like listening to their own voice.
The simple solution?
Equip them with an OFF button!
Carole Nese enjoys reading people and observing and writing fiction, creative nonfiction, editorial prose, and sometimes poetry. Her stories are a combination of imagination, daily conversations, and real world experiences.
My neighbours are quiet, peaceful and private. It’s great, because it would suck to be interrupted by nosy, whining neighbours during my thrice-weekly parties.
When I shoot off fireworks at 2 AM they come out and yell until they’re blue in the face. That’s how I know they’re really enjoying it.
This story was based on the prompt “loud neighbor” at TypeTrigger.