Gregory’s life took a turn when new neighbor Jack feuded over a parking spot. Finding his car wrapped in tape, Gregory plotted revenge. What followed were twists and a shocking confrontation.
My name’s Gregory Watson, in my early 50s, here two decades. Lost Margaret to cancer 8 years ago. Grandson Harry visits. Peace until Jack moved next door with son Drew, 20s, entitled air. He started parking in my spot, marked mine.
“Hey, Jack,” I said. “Spot’s mine, marked.”
Jack shrugged. “Didn’t see your name.”
It kept happening. I asked politely. No luck.
With chronic leg pain, I need that spot.
“Jack, move now,” I said firmly, showing my pain.
He rolled eyes but moved. I hoped it ended.
Next morning, my car taped. I knew it was Jack and Drew’s doing. They wanted my spot.
I cut tape, furious.
Early next morning, Jack saw his yard: glitter, flamingos, chimes. Police arrived, evidence in hand.
Jack stuttered, pointing to his yard.
Police took them away. Justice served. My spot free again. Celebrated with Noah, Kris, Kelly.
Harry visited later, fireplace tales of our prank. Laughter filled the room.
Memories made. Lessons learned. Peace restored.
