A Right to Bear Sleep

Maybe if I just write how I’d kill my neighbour rather than think about it incessantly, I may have a chance to get back to bed…

I’d grab them by the neck and I’d…

No no… Nope. Writing about it is only making me more anxious.

I let them party until 03:30. Why? Because I was working until then and they weren’t bothering me.

Right now they’re singing a Bulgarian version of “The Lion King.” They should be jailed just for that – they’re butchering this masterpiece!

I knocked politely, and they answered very apologetically. The music dropped immediately and loud voices filled the void quite suddenly.

I tried to sleep for another hour,

and another hour and a half.

It’s now 05:00 and the Sun’s creeping in.

I kick the wall to let them know I can still hear them.

They knock on my door! I open, and they yell at me! They yell that they’ve put the music down and there are five people here and it’s Saturday and I should be more considerate and I don’t know what else since I didn’t understand them.

I shout back (my mistake) and tell them it’s the second time that I ask them to keep it down, But they’re Bulgarian and I’m not, and they start complaining about the fact that I can’t speak their language. Fair point, that’s on me, since I am in their country.

I stand there, still as a tree, listening to my drunk and probably high neighbour berate me. I decide it’s time for some magic; it’s the only way they’re going to let me get some sleep and so I produce the most recognisable of sounds. A sound understood in any language that breaches any cultural barrier: ‘chachak’

She screams even louder which brings the man of the house out to my door. I put my crazy voice on: “Now, you’re going to tell your guests to go home and you’re going to be very quiet for the rest of the day. Don’t make me take this up another notch.” He somehow understands English suddenly. He takes his wife (an assumption) apologises again, goes back into their house without taking their eyes off of me and I haven’t heard a peep from them since!

It’s been three weeks since the incident and I still get cakes delivered at my door once a week.

I knew for a fact that my shotgun was a fight stopper I just had no idea it could generate me some home-made cakes, too!

FOWC with Fandango – Fact

Dee Kelly – King

Tales from the Mind of Kristian – King

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