Neighboors

I was suddenly struck by the silence coming from the place next store and I believe I have not mentioned the guests who were staying there. They were not english speakers but they possessed two little children who spoke the universal language of service, the tantrum. And it was spoken fluently, forcefully and frequently. No I understate, it was spoken relentlessly, without mercy. I would have great pity for the sires of these two but we feel they are too responsible for teaching their little ones that peace can be held hostage to desire. We formulated this upon noticing the different pitch and application of the piercing faux scream when the babysitter was around, how wane and insincere they are, and how soon the tantrums stopped, because compliance and satisfaction was not to be achieved with a stranger. Ah but when the parents were about, every detail, every nuance was to be perfect or the screaming would never stop. Sadly, it was a system I had observed amongst my companions and they knew it’s effect intimately and with regret but were surprisingly unfamiliar with the true nature of it’s consequences, which they suffered daily but mistook for other maladies.

I could get started on the other things wrong with this perfect place but I will save that for a different phase, a more developed time and place. There is just the startling arrival and the quiet beauty we fell into on Sunday when we arrived and the stark and piercing change when the neighbors came the next day. In Manhattan in the garden apt next store to where Bonnie lives, are two small boys, who have seen “Gladiator”, “Master of The World” and “Troy” one too many times. They brandish their plastic swords and kill each other time and time again, with shrill frightening screams of “You’re dead, you’re dead!!!!!!!!!!”. When the neighbors arrived, we were very much afraid these boys had followed us here. It almost made sense.