Through the windows
“The poor bastard never saw it coming.” He spoke these words sitting on the kerb with his head in his hands. I didn't know what to tell him. I’d been watching all along. I was at the sink rinsing my coffee cup when he left at 7:30, as usual. And as soon as the garage door closed, I saw their curtains disappear. Well, that caught my eye. She was ripping them down. I knew then something was wrong, this being mid-December and no time for spring cleaning. I stood for awhile, peeking between the blinds. I like to know what’s going on in my neighbourhood. She stood at the bare window for a minute or two, staring wide-eyed at the neglected lawn, naked trees, and the cement-coloured sky. I raised my hand up just in case she looked but she didn't–she saw the dog, his dog, big stupid thing licking himself on the front lawn like it was the only thing to do. She took the things he never liked: the pillow she’d embroidere...