Godzilla and his Spotted Horse (Flash Fiction - 246 words)

     White noise from Sony earbuds floods my ears and my cheap but loud Bluetooth speakers blast “White Noise Black Screen” from YouTube. Being the nice girl that I am, I wonder if the SHHHHHH coming from the speakers is too loud and my young and crazy neighbor next to me can hear it. (I say young and crazy because I had to call the cops within a month of her moving in. She was screaming on the phone to who I assume was her ex. The little charmer was bellowing romantic things such as, “I HOPE YOU DIE!” and “I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF!” and “I HOPE YOU TWO ARE HAPPY TOGETHER!” Such mixed messages.) But then I remember, these people are so fucking loud and inconsiderate. I should not care. 

Approximately eight months ago I moved into this tiny studio apartment—500 square feet to be exact—and it was OK for a while. Frequent creaking came from above me; I figured the tenant upstairs had the fancy laminate floor upgrade, too, so I didn’t think much of it. After all, you can’t get mad at a man for walking, can you? Plus, the leasing agent informed me the couple upstairs was a little “on the heavy side” so it made sense. 

After a while, the noise increased and I heard not only more creaking but loud thuds and crashes. Sometimes it sounded like a mix between a bowling alley, a dog park and an Olympic gymnastics team practicing. Sometimes it sounded like Godzilla lived above me and the noise would be so loud both me and my cat would jump at the loud thuds. The rage I felt inside night after night could only be compared to fire from the pits of hell and I knew the dark circles under my tired eyes were the big loud assholes’ fault. One day I looked outside and saw the neighbors walking a horse. OK, it wasn't a horse but it's the biggest dog I've ever seen. Turns out it's a spotted Great Dane. The classy, obviously intelligent neighbors adopted a GREAT DANE in addition to their other dogs. I couldn't help but wonder how large its poop was. I mean, did they need to take a shovel when they walked him? 

This nightmare ended two months ago when I went upstairs and murdered them. Just kidding. They moved to another apartment in the same complex but a downstairs unit (only took the geniuses a year to figure out they have no business living upstairs). The landlord told me the woman had been frustrated because she couldn’t “play with her dog at 2 am.” No, sweetie, you can’t. Not if your dog is a GREAT FUCKING DANE. 

I had the pleasure of running into the white trash woman when I was checking my mail the other day. She had been loading her white trash car full of her white trash laundry and she pulled out behind me so I drove really, really slow. I’m considering paying the neighbors above them to take clogging lessons and practice a lot at home so they get really good.