Neighbours are unpredictable; especially the friendly ones with their sweet country songs and decorated compounds.
They could slaughter a man with a kitchen knife, drag his body to the back of the house to chop his corpse to pieces before burning him when you’d wave from across the yard and they would wave back with the knife concealed on the other hand behind them like everything’s fine.

Everything’s completely fine.

They’ll be like, “Hi Jessica. Happy Sunday. How did service go?…”

They won’t tell you what’s going down – They won’t say, “Hi Jessica, I’m about to dice your husband to pieces out here. I caught him in bed with my husband sometime last month. god be praised, sister. god be praised!”

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