Chronicles from the Battlefield

In the quiet suburbs, a tragedy was happening, yet no one was noticing it. Everything seemed peaceful; the dew was glistening in the July sunrise. Among this row of white and pink brick houses with family sedans in the driveway, two in particular did not stand out to anyone but the owners. These houses were quite similar to the casual observer. A shiny black driveway, a somewhat recent minivan and an older sedan in the driveway, massive oak trees adorning the front lawn, a pool in the backyard (20 feet wide at 72 Maple drive, 21 feet at 74 Maple drive), a small hot tub on the patio (5-place at 74 Maple drive, 7-place at 72 Maple drive), and freshly mowed lawn with newly purchased riding lawnmowers.

Fred Johnson, owner of the 72 Maple drive was fuming. He knew Henry Davies was taunting him. Why the hell would he purchase a cottage at the nearby lake? He did not swim, his kids looked horrible in swimsuits, and his wife was not that much a looker either. It was obvious that the only reason the cottage was bought was to show him up. He had to buy the one next to his, the one Fred had looked at first and was not able to purchase. But that would not be the end of it. Oh no, it would not be.

With the money saved by purchasing the smaller cottage, he would purchase a boat. He knew his neighbour was out today to put a down payment on a small 19 feet boat. He knew that thanks to his son who was dating Henry’s daughter. So Henry was calling a boat store, he had seen this brand new 25 feet boat, a real beauty. So the family vacation to Mexico would have to wait another three or four years, he would not be beaten by his neighbour.