Again I hear shouting; the evening routine. Throwing things about. Breaking things. I try to block it out but my mind always likes to wonder what exactly he’s throwing around.
It bothered me that I never heard his wife. I’d waiting too long, it could be domestic abuse.Still, I thought I’d seek help from my other neighbors.
I, now angry and impatient, try to explain it the old man. He stares at me blankly.
“Ah, no! Go home, don’t bother. He’s still not accepted it. His wife passed away last year. Must really miss her,”