Day 12: Your Neighbor

Do you know your neighbor/neighbors? Are they your Friends? Or are they Friends?

Remember ugly naked guy? In the next building? Friends junkies, anyone?

We don’t live in NYC. Coffee Coup, not Central Perk. Brown dirt roads, not brownstones. But holy smokes, the guys next door, all brothers, all shirtless. Daniel Craig they are not. Daniel Boone maybe. No man-scaping there. Beards to make all the Duck Commander jealous. It is No Shave November after all. (all year around!)

Classic rock blaring. Unassuming. No unnecessary words. Kind but distant. Sans shirt.

Not appalling or apathetic. Just naked. Ranch hands. More likely to be found welding or whacking on a car part.

Oddly enough, after living here two years, we still don’t know much about them, the brothers naked. In our old cookie cutter neighborhood, I probably would have drawn the shades. “Don’t look Ethel!”

I should write them into some book, these secondary naked characters. Chances are, any fabricating I do, will sound trite or condescending, but I don’t hate the naked guys. They could use some fabric, I have to say.

Seasoned. Ordinary. Naked guys.


Niki at

Don at

Beckie at


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