The nasty old bitch next door is a threat to anyone on the road. She staggers around like a zombie. I think she's on meds for her schizophrenia or whatever psychotic issue she has that makes her yell at the neighbors because she thinks spies are after her. She's so fat and unhealthy that she looks like a plum on toothpicks. She glides slowly around her driveway in slippers and bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon, stumbling on molecules. Her arms hang limply at her squishy bulging sides, her eyebrows painted on at different heights and her decades-old red lipstick giving her a ghoulishly un-dead appearance. Her family helps her into her car since she's so stiff. Then she drives off. Slowly. On. The. Wrong. Side. Of. The. Road. While she stares slack-jawed with her dark sunken eyes into the windows of the houses as she drives past. Apparently it's catching up with her since she came home recently with a huge dent in her expensive new car. She had someone come over and fix it in her garage right away so no one could find her and collect for the damage she caused to their car. I'm sure it was a hit and run by the furtive looks and sense of urgency she had. Her gliding was faster than usual, and her uneven eyebrows were caught into a strange "V" shape. She was whining and babbling.
If she can't walk straight, get into the car by herself, keep her eyes on the road or take responsibility for her hit-and-runs, why is she allowed to drive?
If I knew whose car she hit, I'd be on the phone to the police. But without a known victim, I can't do anything about it. One of these days she's going to jump the curb and run down some people like what you see in the news. I think everyone in her family are criminals since they allow her to keep driving.