The chicken is in the freezer.
The violin is in the case.
The chicken is getting taken out of the freezer.
The violin is getting taken out of the case.
The chicken is in the refrigerator thawing.
The violinist is in the heat thawing.
They have their similarities, don’t they?
They're everywhere-- Next door, across the street, diagonal from your house, driving past you in their cars, peering over the fence, secretly listening to your phone calls...
You never know how much they know about you until you talk to them. Then you discover that they can hear things you didn't know they could hear. Such as you practicing the violin late at night. Or you screeching out a tenor aria whist folding the laundry. (Reminder: You are not a tenor.) Or you blasting one of Beethoven's symphonies on the speakers. At least they can't see you head-banging to it. Hopefully.
They see you in the backyard. They see you in the font yard. They mention how much better the backyard looks with the new plants... When they haven't been in your backyard. Ever. And when you notice a bizarre crash coming from next door and, out of curiosity, you try stretch your neck over the fence inconspicuously, all you see is one waving at you from the other side and smiling.
Some things are best not said. Others should just be left plain and simple.
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