Max, Across the Hall
This is a true story. Honest to god. There aren’t many promises I can make to you, through that flickering computer screen of yours, but this is one of them. And if you don’t believe me, then, well, tough shit.
He had a pointed face, a jaw like the blade of a plow and eyes that spoke in ancient tongues. They were yellow. I kid you not, lemon yellow. He lived in the apartment across the hall from me and I think he was in a band. The racket he made at night was incredible.
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