When my neighbor wouldn’t turn off his bright floodlights at night, my husband and I needed a clever solution to keep the peace.
When the Thompsons moved in next door, they seemed friendly. My wife, Gia, and Susan, the neighbor, quickly bonded while chatting over unpacked boxes. We thought we finally had some neighbors our age to socialize with. Mark, the husband, was often away for work, while Susan stayed home and had a long list of phobias, including fear of the dark, thunderstorms, snakes, clowns, and spiders.
As time passed, Susan’s fear of the dark created an issue that affected Gia and me. Their floodlights, installed soon after they moved in, were excessively bright, like those outside prisons. Gia joked that they could probably be seen from space.
Despite our attempts to address the issue, Susan insisted she needed the lights on for safety when Mark was away. We tried thick curtains and rearranging our bedroom, but nothing helped. After a week of sleepless nights, I approached Susan, asking her to turn off the floodlights after midnight, as they shined directly into our bedroom. She explained her need for safety and refused my suggestion to install a timer.
After several attempts to reason with her and Mark, who felt similarly protective of Susan, we continued to lose sleep. Frustrated, I considered drastic measures, like unscrewing the bulbs or using a pellet gun, but Gia reminded me to stay calm. Instead, she suggested a harmless plan while she and Susan went out for nails.
The next day, I climbed a ladder and slightly unscrewed each bulb to disrupt the connection. That night, when Susan turned on the lights, they flickered and went out. Gia and I finally enjoyed peaceful sleep. Surprisingly, days turned into weeks, and the lights stayed off.
However, one day, I saw Mark fixing the bulbs again. The floodlights blazed back to life that night, and I knew I had to repeat my trick. This cycle continued for months—every time Mark tightened the bulbs, I loosened them.
Then one Saturday, as I trimmed the hedges, Mark approached me. He mentioned his floodlights kept going out, and I managed to keep a straight face while agreeing it might be due to vibrations from the street. I suggested he could leave them off, and he seemed to consider it. After that conversation, Gia and I enjoyed our peaceful, dark evenings once again.
Living Across from a Cemetery, I Saw a Baby Left by One of the Graves on Halloween Night — Story of the Day
On Halloween night, I thought I’d just be handing out candy, but I saw something I never expected—a baby, alone in a car seat by a grave. I rushed outside, heart racing.
Halloween had always been my favorite. I loved decorating and handing out candy. But two years ago, I lost my daughter, and with her, my husband. Now, I was alone.
That night, after the candy ran out, I saw the car seat. I approached it, finding a baby girl inside. There was a note: “Amanda, one and a half years old.” I called the police, but no one had reported her missing. I asked if I could take her home. They agreed.
Caring for Amanda was hard, but I fell in love with her. She filled the void in my life. Then, one morning, a knock on the door brought a police officer and Amanda’s grandmother, Carol, to take her back. Reluctantly, I handed Amanda over, my heart breaking.
Later, I realized Carol had abandoned Amanda. I called my ex-husband, John, for help. We took Carol to court and won custody. I was granted permission to adopt Amanda.
As John walked away after the trial, I called him back, asking him to join us for dinner. That night, I became a mother again, and hope returned. Halloween had brought me Amanda.
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