I stayed quiet when my neighbor stole my things — and even when she used my electricity. But the night I finally fought back, karma struck twice. The second blow was one she never saw coming.
Most mornings, the biggest decision I had to make was whether the tomatoes needed watering before breakfast.
At sixty-four, I liked it that way.
I’d had enough surprises for one lifetime, and after thirty-two years in the same little suburban house, there wasn’t much left in it that could surprise me.
Voir la suite dans la page suivante:
