The Neighbours

I have met the neighbours. I arrived home late and the neighbours were emerging from their house. The light by their front door was in my eyes. I squinted, trying to see them. They paused by the fence, spoke to me, and told me their names. Their names, like their voices, were wistful. “I can’t see you,” I said. “The light -”
The neighbours murmured laughter in response. I shifted, and shielded my eyes. Charlie, in his pram, gazed up unblinking. A black dog was breathing by their knees. I looked down but the dog moved into shadow. Their front gate clinked, and they were gone.

I came into my study and wrote their names on a piece of paper. I looked at the names, tried to see them. The next day, the paper was gone.