Dear Girl Across The Street
Yesterday I saw that man visit you again. The one who puts on the gas mask and has a table tennis bat? You always look so sad when that happens.
After he left, you sat in front of your mirror for the longest time. As I watched, your tears made a tiny puddle in my hands, and my cactus on the windowsill sagged a little.
Last week I followed you to the park and you fed some ducks on the lake. That pink hat with the pom-pom bobble? It doesn’t suit you very well. A jaunty beret would match your face better and might cheer you up a bit.
I have left you a present by your bin in the back yard. Just some biscuits, a signed photograph of Barry Manilow, and an egg timer that looks like Dougal from Magic Roundabout. I thought it might help.
Oh, would you mind straightening your Olly Murs poster hanging in the bathroom? It’s at a squiffy angle and it distracts me while I watch you shower.
And please don’t do that to your dog. It’s not nice.
Your loving neighbour