Garbage on my Doorstep

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This shocked me. I thought it was the apocalypse. All the garbage from my past had been dumped on my doorstep.

I tried to remember whether I had killed anybody. And the corpse had been returned. Or I had impregnated someone’s daughter. And the foetus was right there, lying on my doorstep.

I tried to count all the rubbish I had thrown away or hidden. Or stolen. And any filthy thing I could have done. And it was right there, splashed on my doorstep.

My heart sunk. Used sanitary towels. Baby diapers, adult diapers. Flying toilets. Bones. Dead rodents. Flies. Plastic bags. Rotting food.  A bottle of Coke. A condom. All the filth you can imagine. Name them. On my doorstep.

Who could’ve done this? I opened the door. Skipped inside. Switched on the lights. A swarm of flies flew inside. Someone just dumped shit garbage! On my doorstep!

It’s a gang. They need to survive. We need to dispose garbage and conserve the environment. They came and demanded for money for them to clear the heap of rubbish. “Ni soo!! Unanipea soo nakutolea takataka halafu nakupea paper. Tutakua tunakam kila Friday kuichukua unatupea fifty bob”, one of them told me with finality. And some clout of authority. Okay. Is that why you had to deliver a truck load of bullshit trash to my doorstep.

But I was guilty. Guilty of throwing rubbish outside. At the unofficial dump site, which turns out to be someone’s plot. The landlord had approved it. I had to pay because I couldn’t live with smelly God-knows-what, right on my doorstep.