Those Sinners

My neighbors are at it again.

Their party is starting. It’s 9:30 and I’m brushing my teeth.

I can hear the bass, its pounding providing me with an unnecessary beat while I put my pajamas on.

The keg arrives. I pull back the covers of my bed.

I read a couple chapters of my mystery novel while the first amateur DJ warms up the guests.

There’s a lull for a brief minute.

I take off my glasses and switch off the light. I might be tired enough to ignore their festivities.

I awake 90 minutes later to the sound of a fight.

Someone else in the neighborhood must’ve called the cops because I hear a siren.

Kids are scrambling away.

Oh no. I think a couple of them have hopped the fence into my yard.

I hear a belch, then puking.

I’m sure it’s all over my driveway.

Those sinners.