700 a.m. I’m drinking coffee on my dock when the HOA president crosses my lawn with a surveyor and two sheriff’s deputies. Darlene doesn’t knock. She thrusts a clipboard at me, screaming, “I have 48 hours to get off Community Lake access or will remove you.” Her perfume hits me before her words do.
Expensive, aggressive, suffocating. Her Lexus idols in …
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