Distress and Danger. They go hand in hand.

Back in Eastleigh, I had a neighbour (next door). Eric used to stay one floor up. My "cager" was the "disneyland". Movies, booze (the clear kind) and lots of company. Now, my neighbour (not Eric) had an unbelievably beautiful chic. I had / still have very dark thoughts about her. The guy used to multi-dog her. And she knew about it.

One night it came to a head. The guy threw her out. Cold bastard. She was sobbing on the verandah, with only a nightdress on. We were there, concerned, asking whats the problem. She would just sob some more. She hugged Eric (lucky bugger) and cried on his shoulder for almost an hour.

Poor Eric thought he was going to snatch the mama from the jamaa. Nope. Not while the sun would rise and set everyday. After exchanging smiles, gallivanting between my place and his, she was promptly back to her lover's den in a week; and put on the ice again. Soon they were making dinners and infuriating me with their blues music.

Much later, the chic (I had used another word here) broke the guy's TV and radio and smashed his windows. And started distributing; On almost a business level. I stayed clear. So did Eric. I had this chilling visions of huge knives and parts of my anatomy on the floor.