https://moelane.com/tag/the-house/
It is difficult to ask a neighborhood if something is out there, and eating their pets. Although I was mildly surprised to find myself on remarkably good terms with my neighbors: I am not at my best when it comes to purely social occasions, but word had apparently gone out that I was wealthy. I was also living in the house, which automatically made me some sort of eccentric recluse in everyone else’s eyes. I might have been annoyed at that, but at least it meant that any attempts at social interaction on my part would be viewed in the most favorable light. And this is, admittedly, a refreshing change.
So there I was, then, sitting in someone’s actual kitchen, and drinking a cup of mildly inoffensive coffee while I ‘chatted’ with Betty. That is not her real name, either. One must be polite.
Betty was old enough to be divorced, and her kitchen suggested the presence of teenagers, rather than children. She was also a happy gossip, up until the moment that I mentioned that I was considering getting a bird of some sort. Then Betty shook her head, in a way that I found a touch intriguing. “Animals don’t stick around here,” she said.