Irenic (adjective): conducive to peace or moderation

The new neighbors visited him yesterday with a lovely batch of chocolate-chip cookies. They told him they were overjoyed to move in, and that they were looking forward to sharing backyard barbecues together in the future.

He felt excited. He could show off his grilling skills and maybe play baseball with their little kid.

Until the shouting erupted after sundown.

Who have you been seeing?!

She’s just a colleague! But that guy in the black car isn’t your colleague, is he?!

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

You don’t understand! He’s not-

Listen to me!

On and on, the seemingly peaceful family tore apart their throats, hearts, and lungs, not knowing that their neighbor heard every word.

The next day, the mother came to ask him about the local library. She was holding her son’s little hand, saying how he enjoyed superhero books.

His questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed the words and simply pointed out the directions on his phone.

That night, they screamed again. The father’s gentle voice was shrill with frustration and the mother sounded as if she was going to explode out of the house.

Relentlessly, they fought for a week.

Then, he heard a third voice join the shouting.

It was the small, innocent plea of a child. A lonely sound asking to play baseball. An insignificant whimper for visits to the library. A soft voice that wept for chocolate-chip cookies that didn’t just taste sweet, but tasted of home.

The nights became quiet after that day.