So it's Friday the 13th. They say today is unlucky, but living in Bako, that's all relative. The last 61 days have seemed pretty damn unlucky, so God knows what else today holds.
It certainly isn't starting out well. Wednesday was trash day, and I had absent-mindedly left our trash bin out at the curb. One of the neighbors evidently took exception to that. And threw it up against our entryway in the middle of the night. Wouldn't want to mar the lovely aesthetics of the street, block the view of the vacant dirt lot across the street with the decaying squirrel carcasses littering it.
The Prime Suspect would, of course, be Mary, the harpy who lives next door. But she appears to have been out of town the past few days. Maybe the smoke drove her away, or there's a Bitter Old Scold convention going on somewhere. At any rate, she's been blissfully MIA for days. Plus I doubt she has the upper body strength to fling a trash bin 20 feet. No, it's someone else. Someone new. And they hate us. And they want us to know it.
And to think I had been ever so slightly warming up to this place. I won't be making that mistake again.
