Cemetery Club
“The crushing humidity of the evening had set off his arthritis something fierce, making every movement a little slice of personal hell. Which was why the thought of getting up again annoyed him so. Sure, the echo of breaking glass and shouting voices coming from the trailer next door hinted at something strange going on, but his seventy-three-year-old bones were offering a pretty strong argument for just turning up the volume of the TV and letting the Mackleys handle their own problems.
“Go...ddamned fools,” he muttered, as he tried to concentrate on the classic John Wayne movie he'd just come across. He wanted to curse his own curiosity as well. After more than twenty years of living in Lowland Gardens, the mobile home park on the south end of the Lowlands, he should have been used to the sounds of family squabbles. Raised voices were as common as illegitimate children and welfare checks. Hell, before Alice had passed away, he and his wife had been known to contribute their fair share of arguments for the neighbors’ listening pleasure.MoreLess
“Go...ddamned fools,” he muttered, as he tried to concentrate on the classic John Wayne movie he'd just come across. He wanted to curse his own curiosity as well. After more than twenty years of living in Lowland Gardens, the mobile home park on the south end of the Lowlands, he should have been used to the sounds of family squabbles. Raised voices were as common as illegitimate children and welfare checks. Hell, before Alice had passed away, he and his wife had been known to contribute their fair share of arguments for the neighbors’ listening pleasure.MoreLess
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