11 The neighbor

Sima B. Moussavian

by Sima B. Moussavian

Story

Five years, three months and 22 days. That’s how long I’ve been living next door to Lina for. In a suburban house by a creek and early in the morning, I could see herons hunting from my suite. Not any more. I moved away: that was a few weeks ago, when I sold my dream house on the outskirts to a yuppie at high losses. Why? Lina is to blame. Why did she have to get murdered? For quite some time, I’ve known that it would come to this. However, I had no clue that they would suspect me of the crime.

Did all of them really bring flowers? Farewell gifts for the grave that was dug for her only yesterday between old mausoleums? I came by to watch them work, because I hate surprises. It doesn’t look deep enough. Are they even sure that her coffin won’t stand out from the arid-looking ground?

Maybe that’s intended. Lina would have liked it. Whatever she did, she stood out with it. I’ve rarely ever known anyone who was so tiring. All night long she would sometimes stand in front of a blank canvas in her garden, would strip off everything except the moonlight, take a bath in a tub filled with paint, and with nothing but her dripping body, she would eventually begin to paint. She knew well that I could see her from my bed, and if it had been different than that, she wouldn’t have done any of it.

I often rang the guards because of her. When she was loud until the early hours of the morning, or when one of her many men – some of them were well-known criminals – would stand in front of her house, yelling again.

I didn’t bring any flowers for her. Why should I? To me, she was only trouble. Especially in the last few weeks.

Perpetrators and victims have often known each other for years, the officers said, and that if you get killed, it’s usually by someone you trust. In most cases it is a friend of a friend, an acquaintance, maybe a relative. A co-worker, or sometimes a neighbor.

People are still looking at me as if I did it. Why me, I keep wondering? Couldn’t it have been done by everyone? By the constantly smacking lady in front of me, for one, the rocking boy right next to me, or the rigid man in the last row. Why are they even here? I’ve never seen any of them before.Who are they and what would they want to say goodbye to Lina for?

© Sima B. Moussavian 2022-07-16

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