The woman upstairs is really getting to me. I'm sick and tired of hearing her bawling at her kid, followed by the starting to cry as she's finished. It's really depressing to have to listen to it. I woke up during the night and heard the kid grizzling. I get it every morning too, from about quarter past seven.
I saw her outside yesterday, and she looks exactly like she sounds; a twenty-odd-years-old frump. I didn't realise, though, that she has three of the angels.
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