Pair of budding bozos, partners innewly hatched crimes of mischief and
harassment, making life as miserable
as their own (they hope) for neighbors
wanting nothing more than privacy,
respect, a little peace and quiet
in the country. Selfishly, I realize
that if we hadn't sold the house,
we'd be the recipients of their fury,
evidence of mid-life crisis,
nervous breakdown, problems
of home or job or brain
or possibly all three. Incredibly,
they masqueraded as completely
normal when they signed the
papers years before that set the
stage for current drama. If we could
roll back time, go back, view them
from outside the scene, would
the craziness be apparent? If we
knew now what weirdness would
permeate the property that gave
our family such pleasant years,
would we have sold to whom we did,
or when? Which is why I don't believe
that psychics have the answers, else
they'd never have the problems
other people do, seeing all before,
avoiding what would otherwise
have opened up such cans of worms.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
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