Safe as houses

Heading out this morning, I found a circle of elders-style meeting going on just outside the house. A few neighbours, my landlord and others had brought chairs out and were deep in discussion for several hours; it seemed to be important. It turns out that poor old Ali, our rather decrepit security guard, slept through a break-in last week (can’t really blame him – so did I). One neighbour’s car was stripped of lights, mirrors etc., but luckily, they didn’t bother coming into the building itself.

It’s entirely unsurprising: any time I’ve come home late I spend about 10 minutes cursing the rusty front gate that won’t open and noisily trying to untangle the chains that make it look like its locked till Ali or Peter finally stumble over grumpily to let me in. No wonder Ali didn’t hear the thieves slip past. I don’t know what the circle decided, but if he gets let go, I don’t know how he’ll get employed  anywhere else.

In the meantime, might be time to copy my neighbours downstairs and get a steel outer gate fixed onto my apartment door.


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