not exactly room matesthe people who lived next door to our appartment were god-awful. They used to fight-screaming and breaking glass and shit and slamming doors for hours on end, and then go silent . And then you'd hear water running.
Sometimes they would fight until the early morning then have wild, passionate make-up sex on a squeeky bed that banged against our bedroom wall. I hated them.
One day I came home from work and there were three police cars and a van outside my building. My landlady was standing, white-lipped, by the main door. I went up to my flat. I could hear screaming next door and that quiet, low voice the police use when they're trying to be reasonable. My boyfriend took me out on the balcony (we overlook the parking). All over the car park and in the alley just beyond it there was paper, photos, cds, clothes, electronics, dresser drawers, footballs, pictures framed in glass... As I was watching, a drawer from a dresser came sailing out the window and smashed on the pavement. That was it, the last I heard of them.
(,
Thu 20 Nov 2003, 5:54,
archived)
Sometimes they would fight until the early morning then have wild, passionate make-up sex on a squeeky bed that banged against our bedroom wall. I hated them.
One day I came home from work and there were three police cars and a van outside my building. My landlady was standing, white-lipped, by the main door. I went up to my flat. I could hear screaming next door and that quiet, low voice the police use when they're trying to be reasonable. My boyfriend took me out on the balcony (we overlook the parking). All over the car park and in the alley just beyond it there was paper, photos, cds, clothes, electronics, dresser drawers, footballs, pictures framed in glass... As I was watching, a drawer from a dresser came sailing out the window and smashed on the pavement. That was it, the last I heard of them.