Do you understand, son? Do you think it would be a sin for that boy to beat up a little three-year-old? Would that be a sin?
Brandon Ford tells the tale of two trailer park denizens, one of whom has a taste — both physically and sexually — for dead girls. He has also contributed to more than a dozen genre anthologies.
He currently resides in Philadelphia. Visit him online at: That was definitely a scream. Nora dropped the dish into the soapy water and peeled away the rubber gloves cutting off the blood circulation from her elbow down to the tips of her fingers.
A few short paces from the kitchen sink and she was in the living room, where Lander lay passed out in his recliner, some post game wrap-up on the TV in front of him. Nora switched it off and listened with intent, her sharp ear picking up nothing but the sound of Lander snoring.
He, in turn, gave no response whatsoever. Just kept right on snoring. Nora groaned, rolled her eyes, and pushed open the screen door. She stepped out of the trailer and into the summer night. All around her, a multitude of crickets performed a moonlit serenade. Breath held, she inched away from the shoebox she called home.
Flip-flops on her feet, she felt the long stems of wet, unmowed grass with every step. Felt the mosquitoes already feasting on her exposed thighs. When she felt something soft and wet poke her from behind, she gasped, covered her mouth, and spun around. He scurried away, both anxious and hurt.
For a long time, she stalked about, like a predator waiting for just the right time to strike. Where could it have come from? How desperately she wanted to know.
That shrill, frantic bellow hypnotized her, possessed her, rang inside her over and over again and all she wanted was to hear it one more time.
Just once, so she could follow the sound. Maybe even see … something. But all she heard were the voices echoing from multiple TV sets. Voices chattering on and on all around her. And the occasional electrified snap of a buzzing bug zapper. Defeated, she padded home, head hanging low.
Falling into a torn and rusted folding chair, she lit a cigarette, and stared up at the twinkling stars. He was on his way back from the bar, feeling good and buzzed after more than a few beers, and there she was. Just standing there in the middle of the road.
Not a car in sight. As he slowed down and the lights of his pickup lit her face, he damn near collapsed with relief. When she leaned into the passenger side window and he saw her fresh little freckled face, he knew how young she was.
Not a day over fifteen.
For a mile or two, he listened to her sob story. It was all so terribly clich? And so she just flashed him this big, stupid, wide-eyed smile, shrugged her shoulders, and turned to face the passing wilderness. So soft and smooth … He was gonna have himself a fuck of a lotta fun tonight.
He reached for the six-pack lying on the floor by her feet, plucked one of the longneck bottles from the flimsy cardboard case, and twisted the cap off with his teeth. After chugging half the twelve ounces, he caught her eyeing him funny.
That was enough to give him one pause. So, when he jammed on the brakes, that pretty little piece shot out of her seat like a rocket, hit the windshield face-first, and put one hell of a crater in the thick sheet of smooth glass.
The boss would probably cut him a sweet deal on a new windshield. He just had to make sure he cleaned all the blood off.Short Analysis and Summary of “Neighbors" by Raymond Carver Posted by Nicole Smith, Dec 6, Fiction Comments Closed Print The short story “Neighbors" by Raymond Carver has a plot that follows the exploits of Bill and Arlene Miller who are left to take care of the Stone’s apartment.
Neighbors was featured as The Short Story of the Day on Fri, Apr 20, Create a library and add your favorite stories.
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Add Neighbors to your own personal library. Return to the Anton Chekhov Home Page, or. The first short story is called "Neighbors". Here we meet Bill and Arlene Miller, who seem to be having a crisis in their marriage.
Here we meet Bill and Arlene . Another battle over short-term rentals in residential areas is making its way to the St. George City Council. An audibly unhappy crowd of neighbors showed up Tuesday to oppose plans to build a. NEIGHBORS blue shirt, a dark suit, a blue and white tie, black wing-tip shoes.
The glass was empty and he went for another drink. In the b6droom again, he sat on a chair, crossed his legs, and smiled, observing himself in the mirror.
The telephone rang twice and fell . Carver's "Neighbors" is a story about voyeurism: the natural, human tendency to want to live the lives of others and see how others live.
The story doesn't suggest this is positive or negative.