Dear Mr. Rogers,
The HOA board of Whispering Pines has officially voted to integrate your private road into community use. Resistance will be considered a violation of regional community standards and may result in fines and legal action. Cooperation is expected and appreciated.
Warmest regards,
Clare Phillips, President, Whispering Pines HOA.
I couldn't decide what was worse: the delusion or the stationery choice. I crumpled it, then thought better and smoothed it out again. Evidence, I reminded myself. You keep every piece of crazy.
After that night, something shifted inside me. The part of me that used to believe in polite conversations and civil compromise, it died quietly, buried right there under the weight of that laminated letter.
I started noticing everything: the HOA patrol cars driving by my fence just to monitor boundaries, the landscaper drones hovering too close to my property line, even one of their so-called safety volunteers jogging past with a GoPro strapped to his chest. They were watching me, testing me, waiting to see how far they could push.
But they didn't know that I'd already made up my mind. It wasn't about anger anymore; it was about principle. If someone could take your property just by voting loud enough, what was the point of owning anything at all?
That night, I called Derek Miller again. He was half-asleep when he answered.
"Tell me you didn't buy another cow," he mumbled.
"No cows," I said. "But I've got a pest problem."
"Coyotes again?"
"Worse," I told him. "The kind that drive SUVs and file community motions."
He was silent for a moment, then snorted. "Oh, you mean HOA varmints?"
"Exactly."
"What's the plan?"