A slice of life in the apartment block where I live:
A slender young girl in her early twenties knocks on my neighbour's door. The young girl is a social worker making a home visit. My neighbour is a middle aged woman who is extremely careful about her personal safety. She doesn't know the social worker very well and dares not risk inviting her inside. The interview is conducted through a locked screen door.
Two hours later a drunken man is standing at the same door. Shirtless, with a flagon of wine in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. "Open the fuckin' door you bitch," he yells at the top of his voice. The woman sees the flagon and quickly unlocks the screen door. "Come inside," she says, "And I'll get a couple of glasses."
Two hours later, the sounds of an argument. Raised voices and lots of thumping and bumping. Things are being broken. People are being beaten. And above it all the shrill cry of my very cautious neighbour: "Call the cops ... Call the cops ... Call the cops."
