Street Paradise

What's more chilling than a loud house going eerily quiet overnight?

Sure, the good neighbor walking by at the crack of dawn wasn't thinking horror movie. But she was worried—same as everyone else. Or maybe wanted to prove their theories.

Dead, maybe? Moved out? Off to some spontaneous camping trip? Knowing them, anything was possible.

Sad, but hey, it's what people thought.

You can't blame them for it since last was the best sleep they ever had in a year. That house never sleeps so, when it went quiet? Everyone wanted to know what was going on or if it was a permanent arrangement.

Picture it: sleepy-eyed neighbors gathered outside, robes and coffee mugs in hand, anf others still inside but, faces plastered on their windows with their curtains raised slightly, curiosity outweighing their shame. Eyes locked on one door. And one bold soul already ringing the bell like she was summoning spirits. Hallelujah!

Of course, Joy was awake. Between us? She never sleeps. Something about the darkness and the Devil, ask her cult, for more information. I'm just here to narrate this shit.

But Joy didn't bother going downstairs to answer it. Valid point—it's a two-floor trip. Who would?

But, she wasn't the only one up, either. One floor down in a room with a 'just hooked up' atmosphere, Two girls sharing a room were very much awake.

Nicole was supposed to be helping Emma, her roommate, with tutorials, but... well, one thing led to another and they were now lying naked on top of each other.

They weren't moving. They couldn't, for their moment was sacred. What if a sneeze out and their spell would be broken? So, it was understandable.

Then there was Mother General—MG for short. The landlady who woke up the way she hated most: with someone else's tongue in her mouth.

Some poor fool thought he'd earn morning stars, but instead got a knee to the groin and a curse for dessert. Why was he there in the first place?

But, she didn't have the time and energy to dwell on that and yanked on the nearest robe, swore like a sailor, before stormed to the door, fully prepared to murder Sasha—their unofficial Alzheimer's mascot who forgot her keys every single time she goes out. Their inside dark joke. We prefer our coffee plain black with no sugar and strong teas over here. Want a cup?

Unfortunately, the woman at the door wasn't Sasha. And that just made the trip to the door major upsetting for MG.

"You are definitely not Sasha!" MG barked. The poor old girl went paler than milk and ran for her life. Neighbors scurried back inside in shame and some ducked behind curtains like roaches.

MG didn't even pretend to be sorry for them nor found anything funny like I did.

Like who wakes someone up and runs away without a word? Especially after rejecting her pie last year. The nerve.

But hey, its it's just another day for our favorite residence in street paradise.

And I'm your host for the journey,

Mother Nature.