Living peacefully on Maple Street, I had a verbal agreement with my neighbors, Jim and Susan, to build a fence for privacy. We shook hands and I built the fence close to the property line. Jim and Susan appreciated the arrangement as they didn’t have to pay anything for it.
A year ago, they sold their house, and Kayla, a city realtor, moved in. She soon had a land surveyor mark boundaries and informed me that my fence encroached nine inches onto her property. “Move the fence or pay for the land,” she demanded. With no proof of my agreement with Jim and Susan, I had no choice but to dismantle the fence.
A week later, Kayla returned, distraught. She pleaded for me to rebuild the fence, revealing that her dog, Duke, needed it to stay safe. Despite her hostility, I refused. Kayla’s attempts to contain Duke with a flimsy bamboo fence failed, leading to chaos during a garage sale and the theft of her purse. The neighborhood found humor in the situation, but Kayla struggled.
Desperate, Kayla tried various solutions to contain Duke, but nothing worked. One evening, she begged me again to rebuild the fence, even offering to pay for it. I empathized with her plight but remained firm. Eventually, I sold my house and moved on, finding peace in a new home.
Looking back, I realized Kayla moving next door pushed me to find tranquility. Sharing the story with friends always brings laughter, a reminder that sometimes karma works in mysterious ways.
