I don't live in Megg's Field neighborhood, of course. I wouldn't - It's...you know, the houses are fairly new. It's essentially a subdivision and the houses lack character. You might say the same for the people who DO live there, as well. Oh, that's rather catty of me and that's not like me at all; it must be the influence of Britt Genesse making me say such a thing.
Britt is a nice enough young lady but she does like to gossip. Sometimes I have to interrupt her and get her on another topic, to keep her from going on about her neighbors. Just last week she was going on about Edith Bergland, she's the one in that faded blue house on the corner, you know the one - I heard they're in over their heads with their mortgage, what a pity - and the house is so ordinary looking. Why do people over-reach like that? Although I don't suppose buying any house in Megg's Field would qualify as over-reaching...But for that type, well - ! I really think some people should be satisfied with renting. Not all of us can be as fortunate as Wilson and myself.
Anyway, Britt told me a rather odd story, although I don't imagine there's really anything to it: Edith came home the other day, very tired from her job at some store, I don't know what she does, probably a clerk or something equally meaningless. She hardly has the appearance of someone who does anything remotely interesting! It was what I think of as "l'heure bleu". That's French, it means "blue hour". You know, that time of day after the sun goes down but before it's dark. And she was tired, of course, from her day of drudgery. Well, she was standing outside her house looking around idly and happened to glance up at one of the windows, I think Britt said it was a master bedroom window, not that that makes any difference. And she saw her husband Ben moving about inside. Innocent enough. Except that just a second later, he greeted her from the far side of his truck, where he'd just gotten out and was letting his dog out of the passenger side.
Edith said that she and Ben went inside and had dinner. She looked up at the window once more as they headed inside, but no one was there.
Well, Britt seemed to think Edith was rather rattled by her little "hallucination". That's what happens when you lead a boring little life and come home to a boring little house, I suppose.
