The Man Across the Hall
The man across the hall When I open my door, he shuts his, and he opens it again when mine shuts. It’s like we have a rope tied to the handles across the corridor. He creeps out when he thinks I’m not looking – but I am; I’m peeking through the spyhole I use to check who’s at the door: politicians peddling policies, Jehovah’s Witnesses peddling salvation. I invite some of them in, the ones I think might be entertaining, and we have long chats. Not the neighbours though, and certainly not the man across the hall. One day there … Continue reading The Man Across the Hall