Your neighbor, a mysterious artifact

You stared out the window, bored out of your mind. Your children were away at college, and your husband was at work, leaving you alone when this surprise blizzard hit and took out the internet and phone lines. You couldn't talk to anyone, you couldn't watch anything, and you didn't feel like trying to read a book. All you could think to do was stare out the window at the snow rapidly piling up in the street. Suddenly, you were jolted out of your reverie by the sight of a delivery truck plowing awkwardly through the snow. You hoped the driver was getting hazard pay for this!

The truck stopped by the run-down house next door, and a bulky package sailed out the side, landing with a loud thump. As the truck laboriously trundled off, your neighbor **** her front door open and dragged the box inside. That Cynthia... You never really liked her; she always seemed a bit white trash to you, but you found yourself wondering what foolish purchase she'd made this time.

A few minutes passed, and you were startled by the sound of the AC turning on. Surely you didn't need it yet... After all, it had already gotten things so cold in here that it practically felt like winter. That was what had happened, right? You shook your head; something felt off, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You wished there was someone else around to ask, but your husband was off on that business trip, and your children were out on a bunch of road trips with different groups of friends. The closest-by person to talk to was, well...

You looked back out the window at Cynthia's fancy house, squinting in the summer sun. The feeling that something was off got stronger. All the more reason to talk about it. You got up and walked out next door, finding her by the outdoor pool. She was sunning herself, wearing a shamefully skimpy bikini that clashed horribly with the bulky necklace she had on. You cleared your throat, and she sat up to greet you.

"Elizabeth! Hey! Good to see you. Um, what do you think of my new necklace?"

The question feels so disconnected from what you'd been thinking about that it catches you off guard. "Um, well, it looks odd paired with the bikini. I mean, it's hardly practical swimwear, is it?"

You'd expected her to just blow you off, even though she did ask, but instead she seemed to ponder it deeply, before adjusting her bikini a little. "You're quite right, Elizabeth. So, what do you think of my new tattoo?"

You stare down at the large design on her chest, peeking out from all sides of her top. "It's... a bit much. But in that way, maybe it kind of fits you?" You try your hardest to make it sound like that was supposed to be a compliment.

"Yeah! This tattoo fits me, and nobody else..." You couldn't think of anything to fill the silence after she trailed off, so you were a little grateful when she started talking again. "So, is something wrong? You looked a little worried."

"I, um, you know that feeling, like, that a lot of time has passed without your noticing? Or, um..." You can't put your feelings into words; your rational mind seems to reject what your intuition is telling it before you're even aware of it.

"Hmm, sounds like you need a day out. I'll invite the rest of the neighborhood, while I'm at it."

"Cynthia, wait, I don't..." You're not sure why you're trying to politely bow out, rather than just leave. After all, Cynthia is... Cynthia is what? Wealthy? Respected? A pillar of the community? These thoughts feel foreign, but you can't figure out what you'd replace them with, what should be there instead.

"Don't worry, Elizabeth, it's no trouble. I can tell you need this, but it's my pleasure."

Before you can try to articulate another protest, you find yourself packed into the back of a limousine with the rest of the mothers in the neighborhood.