Nothing exciting really happens much in my neighborhood. No one new ever moves in, nobody ever moves away. There are never any parties, and there are no children my age to play with. The person closest to my age is Tabitha, and she's six years older than me. Obviously "too cool" to hang out with an eleven year old like me. I can name my neighbors off the top of my head.
In the house next to mine, there's a husband and wife. They're in their early thirties. They're called the Carsons.
On the other side of my house is a big, yellow Victorian-themed place where the Tabitha and her family live.
Across the street from me is Mr. Harrison. He's a sweet old man who always offers me candy when I come to his house.
And three doors down, in a tiny cottage with a door painted royal blue, is Ms. Tyler. They say she's a bit dotty, but I love going over to the old woman's house for a cup of tea and a story. She tells the best stories.
She tells me stories about how she went on adventures with a man called the Doctor who could change his face. She tells me how he flew her away in a blue box called the TARDIS. She tells me about different monsters she saw, and different friends she made. She tells me all about her different adventures.
One time, she told me about how she and the Doctor went to a spaceship and saved a woman called Reinette. How there were these robots with clock-heads that they defeated.
She told me that she loved the Doctor. When I asked here why she wasn't with him anymore, she said that they were separated.
Everyone thinks she's nuts.
I think she's brilliant.