I’m not filing formal HOA conduct charges against you.”

Arthur stood perfectly still for five seconds, staring at his polished leather shoes.

He let out a long, soft breath, touched the bridge of his glasses once more, and turned for the sidewalk without another word.

At seven o’clock I walked along the curb to Nora’s front porch.

The air had gone cool and crisp, carrying the sharp smell of wet leaves and freshly turned dirt.

At the end of the street, an idling flatbed tow truck was winching Harry’s custom gas-powered golf cart up onto its steel bed.