Ring Ring
I fail to answer.
Message: "What are you doing back there? Are you locked up? Are you hiding? I'm at the front house. I'm taking the dog for a walk. Come outside." he says.
Bark Bark. An adorable Golden Retriever runs up my steps and lurches against my gate. Bang.
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Knock knock. I don't answer.
"Charmaine" she says from the alley. (It's my neighbor this time.) I go outside.
"Can you believe this guy? Our neighbor cut one branch from his tree. The only branch whose removal doesn't allow light to spill onto our little garden below. That schmuck."
"Let's call the city again," I say. "But I'm afraid we won't win this time. The tree no longer interferes with the powerlines. How did he manage to correct the problem and STILL not give us what we want? Fucker."
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6 comments:
Charmaine--Congrats, I'm giving you another One-Minute Writing of the Day award, for your response to yesterday's prompt! :)
-C. Beth
C. Beth - I get so excited when I win.
I only win when I am 100% certain I have no chance and my comment is as boring as a rock.
Funny how that works.
I love that, but who is he?? Am I confused or having a hot flash??
Meh... chainsaws are fairly cheap. You could handle the problem yourself and blame it on gang violence.
Is this an ongoing battle you have had with a neighbor about a tree in his yard you want cut down so you can get some light in your yard?
If it is, good luck to you. Lots of tree huggers out there and trees usually trump gardens!
Menopausal New Mom - I love trees, just not this one. It's more like an animal. It's a bottlebrush tree, overgrown and ferociously raining down a sea of nettles, leaves and filth.
Sometimes I wake up to find it's weird little red spikey leaves in my hair. Mice and things run into its dead branches.
I hate that tree.
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