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Weekly Contest #38
Ms. Claudine White always hung her laundry way too close to his house. The stiff sheets wobbled in the wind and, in the dead of night, made it sound as if his front door was being torn at. He’d spoken to her about this many times before, but time and time again, she’d responded with the same, blunt answer in her sweet Southern voice: “Harold, I appreciate your concern, but it’s none of your business what I do in my yard.” Of course, that meant that, each time, he had to remind her that his name was nothing remotely similar to Harold an...
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