Sisyphean Attempts at Self-Improvement

Strange and Unusual

Mrs. Chen had lived on Maple Street for forty-three years, and she knew everyone. The Johnsons with their three kids. Old Mr. Murphy who still mowed his own lawn at eighty-seven. The college students renting the corner house.

So when someone moved into the Victorian at the end of the street, she noticed.

The moving truck came at night. No one saw furniture being carried in, but the next morning, the house was clearly occupied. Lights in the windows. Mail in the box. A car in the driveway.

But no one ever saw the new neighbor.

"Strange," Mrs. Chen told her husband over breakfast. "Not even a glimpse."

Days passed. Then weeks. The house showed all the signs of life. Different lights at different times, garbage cans put out on schedule, lawn mysteriously trimmed... but the neighbor remained invisible.

Mrs. Chen decided to be neighborly. She baked cookies and walked to the Victorian, her terrier Max trotting beside her.

She knocked. Max whined and pulled at his leash, trying to leave.

The door opened just a crack.

"Yes?"

The voice was pleasant enough, but Max yelped and hid behind Mrs. Chen's legs.

"I'm Miriam Chen. I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood."

"How kind." The door opened wider, but somehow Mrs. Chen still couldn't see who was speaking. The afternoon sun should have illuminated the entrance, but it was as if the light simply stopped at the threshold.

"I brought cookies."

A hand extended from the darkness. Normal looking, pale, with manicured nails. It took the plate.

"Chocolate chip. My favorite. Would you like to come in?"

Max was now frantically pulling, choking himself against his collar.

"I should get Max home. Maybe another time."

"Of course. I work nights, you see. I keep unusual hours."

Walking home, Mrs. Chen felt eyes on her back but saw no one when she turned.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She stood at her bedroom window, looking at the Victorian. A figure stood in one of its windows, but she couldn't make out any features. It was like looking at a person-shaped absence.

The next day, she asked the mailman about the new neighbor.

"Never seen them," he said. "Letters just disappear from the box."

She asked the garbage collectors.

"Bins are always empty," one said. "But we see them at the curb every week."

Mrs. Chen started keeping a journal. Lights at 2:47 AM. Car gone at 3:15 AM. Car returned at 4:33 AM. Never any engine sound.

One morning, she found a note under her door.

Thank you for the cookies. I realize I must seem strange and unusual to you. Most people find me so. But isn't everyone, in their own way? Some of us are just better at hiding it. Or perhaps, worse at being seen. P.S. Max is a very perceptive dog.

Mrs. Chen moved two months later. The official reason was to be closer to her grandchildren.

She never mentioned the morning she looked in her bathroom mirror and, for just a moment, couldn't see her own reflection.

The Victorian at the end of Maple Street is still occupied.

And still, no one has ever seen who lives there.


——————————————————————————————

533 words

PROMPT: “I myself am strange and unusual.” — from Beetlejuice (1988)

Written for ""13" - 2025 Edition"