Neighbours

The scene was a quiet residential street in a middle class mountain suburb. The time, the afternoon of a cloudy mid-winter day. Geoffrey was a former government employee in his late fifties who had taken early retirement a year before and had been living up here ever since. He was lean, fit and kept healthy with plentiful exercise, usually long solitary walks in the neighbourhood. He had a square, serious face, a head of plentiful, if greying hair and was generally thought of as easy to get along with by the locals. He had been a widower for eight years, still enjoyed the company of women and would have enjoyed an active relationship. But, there seemed little opportunity up here. ...

To set the scene I live in a suburban street by myself, a 32 yr old blonde spinster. I’d describe myself as attractive with an athletic figure, blonde shoulder length hair and blue eyes. I’d had various girlfriends over the last few years but none I’d like to stick with unfortunately. I knew I was a lesbian from about 16 years of age before that type of thing was widely accepted. The house next door had been empty for some time but one August morning a removal truck pulled up outside, followed by a small sports car. A young couple were moving in, both in their mid-twenties. I saw him first, around 5ft 6 with slick backed hair and a phone glued to his hand. I went out to introduce myself and welcome them to the area. “Hi there” I called out but he barely looked at me before nodding briefly and strutting straight past my extended hand. ...