After a week of sun and sand, Catherine was shocked to discover her new neighbor Jeffrey had built an imposing fence on her property. As a single mom, she couldn’t let this slide. What did she do to teach him a lesson he’d never forget?
Life as a single mom isn’t easy, but I’ve been making it work. I’m Catherine, 40 years old, and I’ve been raising my two boys, Liam (10) and Chris (8), all by myself for the past year.
Their father and I parted ways when I caught him cheating with another woman. Well, that’s a story for another time.
About two months ago, I bought a new house and moved in with my kids. It’s in a peaceful neighborhood with a beautiful forest nearby.
Everything about our new neighborhood seemed perfect until I met my next-door neighbor, Jeffrey. We had been at odds since the beginning.
I’ll never forget our first interaction.
It had been a day since we moved in when I heard a knock at my door. I opened it and saw him standing at my doorstep with a folder in his hand.
“Hello there, neighbor!” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Jeffrey. Welcome to the neighborhood!”
I shook his hand.
How nice! I thought. If only I knew what was coming in the days ahead.
“I wanted to discuss something important with you,” he continued, opening his folder.
“The previous owners signed this contract allowing me to build a fence on the property line.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay…?”
“So, I’ll be starting construction next week,” he said matter-of-factly.
I was stunned. “Excuse me? You’re not even asking for my permission?”
“Well, I have the contract right here—”
“That contract was with the previous owners,” I interrupted. “I’m the owner now, and I don’t want a fence blocking my view and sunlight.”
That’s when his face turned red.
“But I need this fence for privacy!” he yelled. “I’ve been planning this for months!”
“Why should I care about what the FORMER owner said?” I asked, but I never got a straight answer.
I just saw Jeffrey stomp out of my house.
Since that day, he’s been arguing with me almost every week about this fence. Apparently, he wants to host fancy garden parties without his guests seeing into my yard.
Well, excuse me for existing!
I couldn’t let him build that fence. I didn’t buy this house to stare at wooden planks instead of the beautiful sky and trees.
Little did I know, things were about to get much worse.
A few weeks ago, I decided to take my boys on a much-needed vacation. Liam and Chris were bouncing off the walls with excitement.
“Mom, can we go to the beach?” Liam asked.
Chris chimed in, “Yeah! And can we build a huge sandcastle?”
“Of course, boys!” I said as I hugged them. “We’ll do all that and more!”
We left for a week, looking forward to sun, sand, and relaxation. If only I’d known what was waiting for us when we got back.
As we pulled into our driveway, I noticed something odd. My heart sank as I realized what had happened.
“Boys, stay in the car for a minute,” I said as I got out.
My blood boiled with each step I took toward our house.
As I peeked to the right, I realized what had happened. There, right in front of our windows, stood a tall wooden fence. On our property. One foot from my windows!
“What the hell?!” I shouted, not caring who heard me.
Liam and Chris came running up behind me.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Chris asked in a worried voice.
I took a deep breath. I had to stay calm for their sake. “Nothing, sweetie. Just a little… surprise from our neighbor.”
“But Mom,” Liam said, frowning, “we can’t see the trees anymore.”
My heart broke.
Jeffrey’s stupid fence had replaced the beautiful view from our windows that my boys loved so much. Now, we couldn’t even see the sky!
I couldn’t let this slide. I had to teach Jeffrey a lesson.
I had two options. Either take the legal route and wait for the authorities to take action or take matters into my own hands.
I chose the second one because my boys and I didn’t have enough time to take the legal route.
Later that night, I went to the pet store. I had a plan that I knew would work.
“Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked.
I smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’m looking for an animal attractant spray. The strongest you have.”
After returning home, I waited until the neighborhood was asleep. Then, I went up to his precious fence and poured an entire bottle of the attractant liquid.
The pheromone scent was strong. It was designed to attract dogs for training purposes. But I had a feeling it might attract more than just dogs.
I did this for several nights in a row, ensuring the solution covered every inch of the fence.
Then, I waited.
It didn’t take long for results to show.
One night, as I was taking out the trash, I saw a stray dog lift its leg against the fence. I had to stifle a laugh.
“Good boy,” I whispered.
Over the next few days, more and more animals started visiting the fence. Foxes, raccoons, even a moose once! They all seemed to think Jeffrey’s fence was the perfect place to do their business.
I watched from my window as Jeffrey discovered the mess one morning. His face turned an impressive shade of purple as he realized what was happening.
But to my surprise, he didn’t take down the fence.
He started cleaning it.
Every morning, Jeffrey would come out with a bucket and scrub brush, muttering under his breath as he cleaned off the nightly deposits.
But no matter how much he cleaned, he couldn’t get rid of the pheromone scent. The animals kept coming back, night after night.
Soon, the smell became unbearable. Even my boys started to notice.
“Mom,” Chris said one day, holding his nose, “it stinks outside!”
Liam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, can we play inside today?”
“I know it smells bad, boys,” I said. “Just give it a few more days, okay?”
They nodded, but I could see they were disappointed. I hoped my plan would work soon.
The next day, I was coming back from a grocery run when I saw one of our other neighbors, Mrs. Thompson, knocking on Jeffrey’s door.
I slowed down, pretending to check my mail as I eavesdropped.
“Jeffrey,” Mrs. Thompson began, “what on earth is that smell coming from your yard? It’s awful!”
Jeffrey seemed so embarrassed.
“I… I’m working on it, Mrs. Thompson. There’s been a bit of an animal problem.”
“Well, work faster!” she snapped. “It’s affecting the whole neighborhood!”
As Mrs. Thompson stormed off, Jeffrey caught my eye. He had this apologetic look on his face that I had never seen before. I smiled at him and quickly walked into my house.
That evening, I watched from my other window as Jeffrey attacked the fence with every cleaning product known to man.
He scrubbed and sprayed for hours, but the smell lingered. Finally, he threw down his brush in defeat and trudged back to his house.
The next morning, I was awakened by a loud noise outside. I peeked through my curtains and had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
I could see Jeffrey overseeing a team of workers as they took down the fence.
I couldn’t believe my plan had actually worked!
I woke up the boys with the good news. “Liam! Chris! Come look outside!”
They raced to the window, their eyes widening as they saw the fence coming down.
“Mom, we can see the trees again!” Chris exclaimed.
Liam hugged me tight. “You’re the best, Mom!”
And with that, our view was restored, and Jeffrey had learned his lesson. However, the story doesn’t end there.
Later that day, Jeffrey approached me while I was gardening in the front yard.
“Catherine,” he started, clearing his throat, “I, uh… I want to apologize.”
“Oh?” I pretended to act surprised.
He nodded. “I shouldn’t have put up that fence without your permission. It was wrong of me.”
“Yes, it was,” I agreed, crossing my arms.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” he continued. “From now on, I’ll respect your property and your rights as a neighbor.”
“Apology accepted, Jeffrey,” I smiled. “Let’s start over, shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
As Jeffrey walked away, I couldn’t help but feel proud. I had stood up for myself and my boys, and in the end, everything worked out.
That incident taught me that life sometimes puts you in situations where you have to get creative to find a solution, just like I had to come up with a plan to teach Jeffrey a lesson he’ll never forget.
Do you think I did the right thing?
I Was Late to My Grandmom’s Funeral—When I Finally Got to Her Grave, There Was a Small Package with My Name on It
When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late. Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her. As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word. His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”
A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly. “She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother. She was my everything.
A smiling old woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.
An upset woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched. I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her being lowered into the ground while I was thousands of miles away, stuck in some airport terminal.
The plane ride was unbearable. I was unable to eat, my food tray just sitting there, the food getting cold and congealing. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t watch any of the movies or listen to music.
A tray of airplane food | Source: Midjourney
I was numb.
Memories of my grandmother flooded my mind. Her stories, her hugs, her quiet wisdom… I kept telling myself I’d make it in time, but when I finally landed and called my uncle, the funeral was already over.
“We couldn’t wait, Teresa. Don’t act shocked. I told you this already,” he said flatly.
A woman standing in an airport | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived at her house, it was empty, stripped of the life it once held. My cousins had cleared out, leaving behind traces of their rushed goodbyes. There was a half-empty water bottle on the counter, a crumpled tissue on the sofa, someone’s forgotten lipstick on the floor.
I stood in the doorway, letting the silence engulf me.
Grandma’s favorite chair was still by the window, the blanket she’d always kept on her lap folded neatly over the back. On the side table, an unfinished knitted sock lay abandoned, the lavender yarn still threaded through the needles.
A ball of yarn and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the soft fabric, and the tears came in a flood.
She had been working on this. Just days ago, she’d sat here, humming softly as she knitted, probably thinking about some old family recipes.
I sank into the chair, clutching the sock like it was a lifeline. Memories of her voice, her laughter, her love, rushed over me. The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I didn’t want it to stop.
This pain was all I had left of her.
An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When the sunlight began streaming through the window, I wiped my face and stood. There was one thing I still had to do.
I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. The drive to the cemetery was a blur, my mind racing with all the things I wished I’d said, the moments I wished I could relive.
The grave was easy to find.
A bucket of daisies at a florist | Source: Midjourney
The fresh mound of dirt stood out starkly against the older, weathered headstones. My breath hitched as I approached, the reality of it hitting me all over again.
This was it. Her final resting place.
But something caught my eye. At the base of the grave, nestled in the dirt, was a small package. My name, Teresa, was scrawled on the paper in her unmistakable handwriting.
A package in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I picked it up, my heart pounding.
The package felt almost warm, as if her love had left a mark on it. I tore at the wrapping, revealing a folded note inside.
My dear Teresa, it began.
I know your uncle probably won’t let us see each other one last time. I don’t know where I went wrong with him… but he’s always been jealous of the bond we share. I need you to know this: Teresa, you are my love, my joy, and the light in the darkest of days.
I asked Rina to leave this package on my grave after I’m gone. This is so you’ll never be late again.
A woman reading a note in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I gasped.
Grandma had planned this? Had she known exactly how things would unfold?
And it made sense to me. Craig probably thought that Grandma was going to leave a whole lot of money to me, her house even. Not that I wanted any of it…
“Oh, Gran,” I muttered.
An old woman writing a letter | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision as I opened the smaller package inside. A gold wristwatch glinted in the sunlight, its face encircled by tiny diamonds. I turned it over, and there, engraved on the back, were the words:
Grandma and Teresa. Always and Forever.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the watch to my chest. The ache in my heart swelled to unbearable proportions. She had thought of me, even in her final days, leaving behind this symbol of her love for me.
A woman holding a watch in a box | Source: Midjourney
As I sat there, the pieces of her note lingered in my mind.
My uncle. His jealousy.
It all made sense now, the way he’d rushed the funeral, his brusque phone calls, the coldness in his voice. He’d never hidden his resentment, but to think that he’d taken it this far… refusing to wait even a few hours.
Still, as much as his actions stung, I couldn’t let them overshadow what I held in my hands. The watch wasn’t just an heirloom, it was a promise.
A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
It was the promise of a connection to my grandmother that time could never erase.
The cemetery was quiet as I stood by her grave, sharing memories, apologizing for being late, and thanking her for everything she’d given me.
When I finally stood to leave, I slipped the watch onto my wrist. It felt like a piece of her was with me, tangible and eternal.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The house was still empty when I returned, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. I stood in the living room, looking at the remnants of her life, her unfinished sock, the framed photo of the two of us by the mantel.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Teresa,” he said. “What are you doing here? Why bother to come when everything is over?”
“How can you ask me such a question?” I gasped.
A grandmother’s living room | Source: Midjourney
“She was old, Teresa,” he said. “What did you expect? That the old woman would live forever?”
“When did you get so cruel, Uncle Craig?” I asked.
“When did you get so self-righteous?” he spat.
Before I knew it, two men from a moving company walked into the house.
Two men standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m taking the furniture. And those expensive plates and vases. I’m going to sell them.”
“Gran will never forgive you for this,” I said simply, sitting down on the couch.
“Gran is long gone, Teresa. It’s time to move on. And don’t try to contest the will,” he said. “Gran would have given everything to me. I can’t wait to give Rose her watch. My mother would absolutely want her first-born granddaughter to have it.”
A cupboard with expensive crockery | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my sleeve down, hoping that Craig wouldn’t see the watch. I wasn’t going to hand it over. No way. But at the same time, I didn’t want to entertain Craig. He could take everything else.
A few months had passed since I left my grandmother’s house for the last time. Life had resumed its usual rhythm, or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside.
The watch stayed on my wrist, its weight a constant reminder of her. Some days, I caught myself holding it, brushing my thumb over the inscription as if I could summon her voice.
A watch on a person’s wrist | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I made myself a cup of tea, Gran’s favorite chamomile blend, and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The unfinished sock from her house now sat on my coffee table, neatly placed in a small knitting basket.
I picked up the knitting needles, my fingers still clumsy and awkward with the motions. She’d tried to teach me once, years ago, but I’d been too impatient to sit still.
A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“One day you’ll see,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “That knitting is like life. You just keep going, one stitch at a time.”
One stitch at a time.
A lavender sock and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
Judy and her family get into the habit of saving money in a “family stash jar,” which is used for emergencies or family outings. But soon, she starts noticing that someone in the family has sticky fingers, helping themselves to the money. Judy has to figure out who it is and what is the reason for such dishonesty.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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