My Neighbor’s Point of View (SunWE, 05/25/14, Memories)

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on May 25, 2014 0 Comments

I walked out my front door and down my front steps.  I took the cement path leading to my mailbox.  While I gathered my junk mail–along with some overdue bills, and collection notices–I saw a note on my truck’s windshield.  My pickup truck was parked on GM’s driveway. I stuck my mail in my back pocket and mozied on over to my truck.  I lifted the windshield wiper and grabbed the note.  It said, “Please don’t park your truck on my driveway.”

Can you believe that?!  The nerve of that guy!  Putting a note on my new truck like that!  He could have scratched the paint!  Besides, I can’t park my truck in my own driveway ’cause there’s no room.  I have valuable items stored there: like an old couch the dog chewed up and pissed on; an old, paint-peeled, dented dodge dart I aim to fix as soon as I get the money … I’ll get the money as soon as I get me a job.

Anyway, GM had no right to do what he done, so I called the sheriff.  I figured the sheriff would put his sorry ass in jail, but you ain’t gonna believe what happened next.  Get this: the sheriff told me I had no legal right to park in his driveway!  Can you believe that?!  It’s a doggone conspiracy!  I bet a dollar to your two nut-sacks that GM bought off the sheriff’s department!

Furthermore, GM don’t even own a vehicle, so he don’t need his stupid driveway anyhow.  He is so unreasonable!  Do you know what he told me?  He told me I could park my truck on the street in front of his house as long as my truck don’t block his driveway.  What does he care?  It’s like I said, he ain’t got no vehicle!  I suppose he has people visiting him who might want to park on his driveway, but if my truck is there, why can’t they be the ones to park on the street?  I don’t see why I have to be the one to park on the street, especially when, close by, there’s a big old tree full of birds that would poop all over my truck!

I told all that to the sheriff, but he just looked at me like I was an idiot.  When I finally get a job I’m gonna make sure none of the taxes I pay go to the sheriff’s department.  That sheriff is supposed to be a public servant–and I didn’t get no service!  Even when I told him that GM stabbed my dog with a knife.  He told me that GM denied stabbing my dog.  He said I had no … no … what’s it called?  Oh yeah … evidence.  He also pointed out that my dog has no scar where it was supposedly stabbed.

OK, so I did lie about the dog being stabbed, but I had good reason: I was mad at GM and wanted his ass put in jail.  Can you blame me?  I mean, common!  Look at the facts: I innocently park my truck on GM’s driveway; he puts a note on my truck; I report him to the sheriff but the sheriff thinks I’m an idiot.  Hell, I had to lie.  I had to save face somehow.  I even convinced myself the lie was true, so I could look the sheriff in the eye when I told him–but then the whole no-evidence thing bit me in the butt!

You understand, don’t you?




The Challenge:

Write a story or a poem in the form of one of your memories. The catch: you must write this memory from another person’s point of view.


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About the Author ()

Freelance artist and writer. I like to exercise and eat healthy foods. I love reading your posts here on gather along with looking at your photos, art and videos.

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