Living in my neighborhood was peaceful until my new neighbor, Kayla, faced karma. My home on Maple Street was my sanctuary, especially the backyard. I built a fence for privacy, reaching an agreement with my neighbors, Jim and Susan, to avoid hiring a surveyor. They were happy with the arrangement.
A year ago, Jim and Susan sold their house, and Kayla, a realtor, moved in. She soon had a land surveyor mark boundaries, and informed me that my fence encroached nine inches onto her property. Kayla demanded I move the fence or pay for the land, threatening legal action. With no proof of my agreement with the previous owners, I had to take down the fence, a grueling and disheartening task.
A week later, Kayla asked me to rebuild the fence for her dog, Duke’s safety. Despite her previous hostility, I refused. Duke repeatedly escaped through her flimsy bamboo fence, causing chaos, including a garage sale incident where her purse was stolen. The neighborhood found humor in the situation, but Kayla struggled.
Kayla begged again for me to rebuild the fence, offering to pay. I empathized but remained firm. As months passed, her complaints wore me down. Eventually, I sold my house and moved. A young couple bought it, unfazed by Kayla’s situation. I took the old fence panels to my new home, finding peace and meeting someone special.
Looking back, Kayla’s arrival pushed me to leave the old neighborhood. My new home brought tranquility, and I often laugh at the memory of those fence panels. Sharing the story with friends always brings laughter, reminding me that karma works in mysterious ways.