Their voices are sharp. They are fuelled by either hatred or jealousy. Maybe both.
In the kitchen, she is repeatedly shouting out, ‘quieter’.
The aggressive response, booming from the front room, is to turn the music up even louder, drowning out her rival’s demands.
Then the one upstairs suddenly joins in.
I have to intervene.
‘Ladies, stop. Now,’ I scream.
I’m heard, but totally ignored.
It’s time for me to pull the plug on this.
Published: Pen to Print.