"Did you know someone moved into that old house?"
I looked up. "What?"
Mum nodded. "Just yesterday. I saw the moving van. Didn't see the tenants, though,"
"Hmm," I said.
"Hmm," Mum repeated.
As I walked to school, I look across the street. There was a big car in the driveway, some of the hedges had been chopped back into order and the wooden planks along the outside looked a lot cleaner than the previous rundown dirty old thing.
I wondered what type of people lived there.
Then I stopped.
What did it matter? It was none of my business anyway.
Oh, but it was.
YOU ARE READING
Some People
Short StorySome people don't have the will to live Some people don't have long to live But everyone needs someone they can hold on to
