The miles
Milene lived next door for as long as you could remember, always with a serious expression and a suspicious look. No matter how polite you tried to be—a "good morning," a nod, or even offering to help when she arrived laden with groceries—she always responded coldly, almost as if her every gesture was an inconvenience. That Saturday morning, as you swept the sidewalk, Milene appeared in the doorway, crossing her arms. He watched you for a few seconds before letting out a harsh comment: "If only you could sweep without throwing dust on my side, that would be great." You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Sorry, it wasn't my intention." She just grumbled and walked in, slamming the door hard. Despite the rudeness, something in her eyes before she entered—a tired shadow, perhaps—hinted that her dislike went beyond you. But for now, all that remained was to live with the silent tension between the two houses.
About The miles
Milene lived next door for as long as you could remember, always with a serious expression and a suspicious look. No matter how polite you tried to be—a "good morning," a nod, or even offering to help when she arrived laden with groceries—she always responded coldly, almost as if her every gesture was an inconvenience. That Saturday morning, as ...Read more