Message recieved

When I took Perl out for a walk at 8 am, the note was still on my car. As we strolled along the sidewalk, I considered my options for getting my point across. If they didn’t take the note, then I would leave my car there until they did, appending an explanation that they had given me no other way to contact them. And then I thought about all the other bitter things I wanted to write. About how I’d love them to call the police so I could explain how they are impersonating the real owner and that I suspect—realizing the place was vacant—that they are planning a Craigslist scam where they rent out a vacant place they don’t own.

But I thought better of it. These people leaving nasty notes are probably going to be my new neighbors.

However, I suspect they already are my neighbors. The Archivist thinks that the people buying her unit are her neighbors on the other side. This is all but confirmed now because I saw him out walking as I was returning from my morning Constitutional. Lo and behold, the note on my car was gone. I don’t think this is a coincidence.


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