La reine est morte! Vive la reine?

So I had a weird little encounter just now...

Most of you probably know about the ongoing drama with my upstairs neighbor, and those of you who don't, be glad to be spared the details! Major alcohol and and anger problems. We're talking Dahmer-level psycho-/sociopath just waiting for the right trigger to make him start eating people and having sex with their dead bodies as he's crocheting doylies out of their hair. I wish I could actually say that in hyperbolic jest, but I seriously think he's just that nuts.

Anyway, earlier this evening there was a knock at the door of the side porch. It was a woman I'd never seen before, looking for Stuart. I told her to go to the front and ring the bell, since he probably couldn't hear her knock on the side stairs. She asked me if he was okay, and I said I really didn't know, since I hadn't spoken to him in quite a while. Then she said that today is his birthday, and that she's his sister and hasn't spoken to him in over five years.

I felt a little sad for her, but I really didn't want to get into a conversation about Stuart. I mean, what would I tell her? "Yeah, your brother went nuts about a year ago and has alienated everyone in the neighborhood, and routinely threatens and verbally abuses them. And he's drinking again, and I think he got fired. And he's been having anonymous sex with meth addicts he meets online, 'cause I keep running into them in the hallway. But other than that, I hear he's doing just great!"

What stuck me as odd, though, is that he wasn't answering the bell, though his lights are on and his truck is here. I just went out a few minutes ago to distribute notices for Tuesday's board meeting, and I noticed that he also hasn't picked up his mail from Saturday. I wonder if he actually is all right. I usually can hear him stomping around (which is really funny, because before our falling out I never heard a single noise from him, but now he makes a point of walking quite heavily whenever he can) but I don't recall heaing him today. I don't remember the last time I heard him, but I'm sure I heard him a day or two ago.

That put me in a weird mood, so that's why I'm babbling about it now, just to put it down on paper (or LCD, anyway) and process it a little. I started wondering if maybe Stuart had done himself in or fell in the tub or in some other way met a perhaps-not-so-untimely end. Then I started feeling bad that I didn't really feel bothered by the thought that he just might be dead. Knowing Stuart, one of his tricks from manhunt.net probably killed him for drug money. Or just because.

Of course, he could just be sick, or not home and left his lights on and his truck here, or maybe he was just not answering the door. But I'm a little bothered by the thought that a small part of me enjoys the idea that Stuart just might no longer be with us. I'm slightly more bothered that I think karmically it would be awesome if his cats ate him. Would his absence make our house a happy home again? Maybe - that would depend on Prudence and whoever moved in upstairs. It would probably be Patrick & Kevin.
Anyway, weird. Now I kinda want to sneak up there and see what's going on. Not that I would, because if he wasn't dead, he'd kill me instead if he saw me anywhere near anything of his.

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