I rest in the bed listening to my upstairs neighbors fighting or fornicating, it all sounds the same. It reminds me of my lonely existence. My last boyfriend left months ago and trashy novels have been my only visitor, sneaking in when they are not wanted. I bang my broom on the ceiling as they get too loud, reminding them that they have neighbors. At least our bedrooms are on the corner and they have the top floor. I am the only one they bother. I roll over with my Cosmo, reading about some woman’s drug addiction and return to the real world, pressing my ear to the pillow hoping to block out the noise. Ceiling chips down on me as it often does when they near the end. I brush them away from the guy in the ad, his eyes looking into me as no man has. The noise peaks so I bang one more time hoping to hurry it along.
I hear a crack above me. I look up hoping to not see blood dripping through as a head hit the floor. I see the ceiling caving slightly. Just in time, I bolt away dragging ripped pages of sex tips and clothes with me. They come falling on my bed, crushing my old quilt. A naked young man in his twenties holds the wife safe in his arms, while the husband sits dazed, coming together slowly with another insult.
I guess they were doing both.
Author’s Note: Noises is a flash fiction based off the idea of hearing noises from an upstairs neighbor. It was started off a prompt that quickly took a funny turn that has pleased its readers so far.