It is her house

She stared at the monitor and watched the events of downstairs until one of the subjects faced the camera.

“I know you’re up there. Can you stop doing that? You’re creeping me out.”

She bit her lower lip and turned on the intercom. “What are you talking about?”

“Watching us. All the time. It’s creepy.”

“It’s my house.”

“Not only yours and I’m not here to see only you. Do you have to watch everyone all the time?”

It was a good question. She liked people watching, that was true. And she had the right to know what was going on in her house. No real need for this much security, maybe, but it was her house and everyone who lived here and agreed to that. “You don’t have to come here to see us, you know.”

“Goddamn it, Phyllis.”

Satisfied she’d made her point, she turned off the intercom and watched as the man rolled his eyes and followed his friend into the other room. Then she turned the channel and left the two of them alone.


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