There was a knock on my door last night around 3 Am. It was my mysterious neighbor, once again wearing his suit. His hands were covered in blood. He asked if he could come in. I stupidly let him in without asking any questions. He headed towards the kitchen and washed the blood off his hands. The blood is still in there, I should probably clean it out. He kept looking out of the window frantically, as if someone was following him. After about ten minutes, he thanked me and headed out. Before leaving he said his name was Kyle. Immediately he ran out and headed into a dark alleyway. I don't know what it is about this guy, but I feel strangely comfortable around him, even during the awkwardness of his silence the other day.
No poem today.
I miss the poems already. :(
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