Fee Fie Fo Fum.

The dog's being stalked.
I'd left the main door open and locked the glass to let him look out. He likes looking out and I like him diverted and neither of us likes the other. So he cozied up with his sunshine and I went about making tea.

Mid-steep, I heard it. The scree of nails on glass. Then the smack of flesh on wood and a voice like a broken drum lowered in a chant: "Dooo-leeee. Doooooo-leee." I crept out of the kitchen and into the hiding spot reserved for surveillance and saw her. Big-Boned Blond Neighbor. She'd taken this opportunity to cross over the street and into the realm of insanity.

She stood in the doorway with her calves bulging and her nostrils flaring and her titan braid sticking out like spear, and the sunlight shot through the spaces between her cigar sized fingers and made patterns on the all-purpose carpeting. She swayed and the dog swayed back. She pounded and implored and he whined and threw himself against the panes. I pressed myself against the wall and breathed hard. She rang the bell. Pounded again. Tried the handle and cooed and the dog went crazy from the whistles and her barbeque stench. I sweat coldly and whispered a desperate fuck. And the world creaked.

But the trusty door held! Big-Boned gave a short snarl and leapt over the mums and into the brush. And I crawled out and gathered in the puppy and fed him cheese and in time will work myself up to getting the mail.