First sustained black writing in a while here.
In 2013 there is a man in a house somewhere in my road with a persistent barking monosyllabic cough. I can hear it as I sit in my living room. I've been hearing it for months and now I have decided it annoys me and I cannot sit in silence in my living room in the evenings anymore without having this fizzing feeling of irritation in my stomach at the constant sound. What if it goes on forever? It's just like a dog barking. He must be in his bedroom, maybe in bed. Other people must be able to hear it. And it's not like you can tell him to stop. Is it the cough of a crack smoker? That's what I thought to begin with: bloody drug addict coughing constantly, destroying the street's evening peace. Must be a smoker of something. What if he's dying? Of tuberculosis or something. Even a dying man can still be annoying. Just because he's dying doesn't mean he's above social etiquette. But then, you know, if you have to cough, you have to cough. There's nothing he can do. He's not doing it on purpose. Maybe he's dying and he's taking cough syrup and he's struggling every second not to cough but he just can't help it. Maybe he sheds tears of guilt and embarrassment with every bark. Even if I knew that was true, still I think I'd be annoyed, still I'd imagine how much better life would be if I could sit in silence (and I can't put music on because Rose is trying to sleep) without a persistent annoying sound punching me in the face every ten fucking seconds.
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