The next morning I forgot about the whole thing and I was surprised to find him knocking at my doorstep. My bag was firmly clenched in his hand with unbearable strength of one's feelings, as though the inanimate object would almost squirm in pain. It took me quite a while to remember all the agitation yesterday from that unexpected misdemeanor he demonstrated. His unsightly appearance first thing in the morning already ruined my day. He reeked, so much I couldn't even smell my own morning breath. There was this sort of miasma issuing about him that I had randomly distinguished strangely similar to the odor of a radish. Assuming from how thick the sweat running from his face was, I figured that he was from a jog. More strange, he knew where to find me. I'm not a bit of a morning person, so my head wasn't functional enough to realize that my exploitation yesterday was due to his deplorable skill in rummaging without consent. In our native colloquial term, we call that the 'pakialamero'. Naturally, he would already be familiar with my contact information, which I've withheld from him ever since. By then, I've come to regret the neat-freak that I am for having completely addressed all my notes and journals that with them, even a primate could follow the directions to my residence. When it dawned on me that everything wasn't a dream, my disheveled appearance was just a euphemism of me being wretched beyond the pale. Something tells me this won't be the only time I would get myself involved in any way with this guy.
Before he could sport any attempts for an apology, I outstripped him with the most menacing look I could portray. I'm sure he was able to sense that I was really upset, he was able to realize the gravity of his offense, seeing the remorse on his face—that face, which is so painful to look at. Those eyes of his were in an effort to soften my rising tension, masquerading that uncouth attitude that he's been recognizably known for. He tried to appease my gurgling volcano of thoughts as he slowly handed me my bag without any single word. No sorry, not one bit of regret. That just irked my temper into a broiling pique. I was about to exhale the pressure out when he finally decided to open his mouth first.
"I didn't know that you were—," go ahead, say that word.
"—my neighbor."
"I didn't know that you were—," go ahead, say that word.
"—my neighbor."
I was speechless. That woke me up.
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