“Do you always leave those out like that?” she asked.
I looked at them, slightly confused.
“I bring them back every evening after collection,” I explained.
She shook her head and said they made the street look untidy.
I calmly told her that I understood her concern, but I had always followed the usual neighborhood routine. Before I could say anything else, she shrugged and walked away.
I decided not to make an issue of it. It seemed like a small disagreement, and I had no interest in starting an argument with someone who had only recently moved in.
Unfortunately, that was only the beginning.
A few days later, Claire complained about my wind chimes.
They hung on my front porch and had belonged to my grandmother. Their gentle sound reminded me of childhood summers and the peaceful afternoons I had spent with her.
They were more than simple decorations to me. They were a small connection to someone I loved.
