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A wonderfully creepy story by Liz Finch. Check out her website for a whole host of artwork and stories, here





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'HELP WITH WRITING LETTERS'
by Liz Finch



Dear Sir

It has come to my attention that you are consciously parking your car in front of my house every evening at around six o'clock. Logically this would coincide with the time a normal person such as yourself might come home from work. I have looked out and seen you from my kitchen window.

Incidentally as my kitchen is in the basement, whenever you park your car in said place the whole room becomes dark and gloomy. Like a fucking morgue in fact. I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you were not aware of that fact and therefore are not parking with the specific intent of making me feel less happy. But you might be trying to attract my attention.

As I said I've seen you but only your legs. Not your face. And I have tried not to form a mental image of you. I get the impression (from your legs) that your job is not one which demands formal attire. You might run your own business, or work in a shop - I don't know. I would guess you are somewhere between 29 and 40 - it's hard to tell just from the legs. You have never worn trainers but again that does not actually tell me anything. I wear trainers myself so I know they are comfortable but so probably are the pale brown Timberlands you seem to favour. By the way I didn't like the loafers.

If I tell you now that I am 38c cupsize you should not take it that I am trying to interest you sexually. I just felt that as I have been seeing the lower half of you every day for a month at least, it might be fun if you knew something about the upper half of me. Having established that I am not propositioning you is there anything else you would like to know? For instance am I married? is there a special person in my life who is not always around? Do I prefer male or female? I cannot answer unless you ask.

The man who used to regularly lean his bike against my dustbin for a period of about seven weeks showed a certain amount of curiosity in these matters right from the start. My relationship with him was different from the one you and I share so far. His hours were different. I never asked him what he did in the course of the day as my role is not to ask questions. If I ask a question I feel exposed myself. This should not be interpreted as any lack of interest. I want to know the answers (desperately) but my secret fantasy is that you will volunteer the information. Not just let it slip in that lazy period after you've ejaculated.

Hmmmmm

I am not sure of the exact time when you arrive outside my place in the morning and drive off. This is because I am still in bed at that hour. Usually alone and naked, lying face down. But rarely asleep, I lie there listening.

When you return to park in the evenings, again, I am similarly naked but tend to be half sitting up in bed watching quiz programmes and the like.

There are a lot of cars a-coming and going in the course of the day, so I can't be sure which one is yours. If I stood at the window and looked out this would interfere with our future as I've planned it; you have to make the next move.

It would be a simple matter for you to adjust your daily routine so that I become a significant part of it. You would not be required to put in more than 20 minutes a day as I have milk and newspapers delivered, also the post, although the latter arrangement is petering out. The deliveries are always on time and regular and I would expect you to be also.

If you have any queries about my specialities please do not hesitate to put them to paper. I will answer them on paper before proceeding to the next stage, getting a key cut etc. I will tell you everything you want to know. There is nothing I won't tell you. More than all of me is yours. Please reply at your earliest possible convenience. Failure to reply promptly or at all will not signify lack of involvement as far as I'm concerned. Quite the reverse.

Yours faithfully

The House Owner


� Liz Finch
Reproduced with permission





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