Mrs. Pauley: Writing 101, Day 18

There’s nothing going on today. Just sitting on the steps, being bored. Watching the house across the street where old Mrs. Pauley lives. Old, crazy as hell, and mean Mrs. Pauley.

She used to have a husband, I hear she had kids too. Got none of that now. Her boys are gone, I hear. Mr. Pauley too, almost 6 months now. Well, her boys aren’t dead dead. But they might as well be. Yep, there she is.

Let me go get some popcorn.

She used to let us sit on the stairs by her brownstone all the time after school. Now she just chases us away. And here comes the landlord down those stairs, with her flying behind after him. “I told you I’d have the money after my baby boy comes home! Just one more month! Now get out!”

Whoa. The cops are driving up. Looks like the landlord was ready for her. If I bend my head down while I’m writing this, they won’t see me. Cops seeing you never turns out good.

The hell? Was that a gunshot?

3 armed cops against one old lady. Good job, man. She’s hella scary. Or she was.

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