Every morning I wake up at 7am to get ready for class. Mr. Jones is my alarm clock. The rev of the engine of his silver four-door Ford pickup truck jerks me awake at 7 o’clock on the dot every morning.
On my way out the door at 7:50am, I say hi to Mrs. Jones. She barely has enough energy to mumble ‘good morning’ back, as she rushes all three of her children out of the house and into her green minivan.
At approximately 12:30pm every afternoon, I stop back at home. The black Audi A8 is always already there, but parked in different places. Sometimes it’s parked in front of the Jones’ house, sometimes in front of mine, and other times down the street.
I’ve only actually seen the man who owns the car twice. The first time I saw him, it was because I came home early. He was wearing black dress pants, a crisp ironed long-sleeved navy and white striped collared shirt, and black loafers. He was very handsome.
I actually didn’t think much about him until I saw him the fourth or fifth time. Mrs. Jones and the mystery man were out on her front porch, shamelessly canoodling on the blue cushioned porch swing chair. It was then that I finally realized he wasn’t her lawyer, employee, or brother-in-law that came over everyday to say hello.
It seems to be that Mrs. Jones is having an affair!
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