Neighbor Steals Your Christmas Decorations

Your neighbor started hanging her Christmas decorations. You smile, wave and say, “Looks good,” as you pull into your garage. Suddenly, you take pause and  notice that her decorations look very familiar and, are in fact, yours. To confirm you dash to the basement and see that all of you Christmas decorations are missing. You decide to steal back your good in the middle of the night but it doesn’t go as planned. Write this scene.

Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

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218 thoughts on “Neighbor Steals Your Christmas Decorations

  1. AbigailMolina

    Nesskens and Abigail

    Neighbor Steals Your Christmas Decorations

    Your neighbor started hanging her Christmas decorations. You smile, wave and say, “Looks good,” as you pull into your garage. Suddenly, you take pause and notice that her decorations look very familiar and, are in fact, yours. To confirm you dash to the basement and see that all of you Christmas decorations are missing. You decide to steal back your good in the middle of the night but it doesn’t go as planned, because I had my ladder stolen last week ,so I cannot use it to get to the roof. I am limited to use my climbing skills so get there without getting caught;I cannot belive in her behaviour ,because she has been my neighbour for ten years and she has never done something like this before.

    I can feel the cold wind blowing against my back ,and this encourages me to give it a try to get my christmas decoration back tonight.If I were a superman I would reach the top of the house easily . I am a little excited about climbing up Lily´s house, a huge dark blue wooden house of two floors and several rustic and elaborated windows , in addition to the old and frightening athic in the top which makes me thing I am at a witch´s house, having said that Lily is very pretty. If I were not married to Susan, I would have tried to flirt with Lily . Lily!very time I see her, she reminds me the girl I fell in love when I was in highschool, not only because of her blonde and straight hair that looks like a golden curtain,but also because of her wide gray and tender eyes.

    I am wearing a pair of black thick wool gloves, a pair of climbing shoes , and thermal clothing, everything in black of course.It is neccesary that I get my christmas decorations back , so I start throwing a rope that I found at my garage,that garage is very well equipped with camping gear. I recommend that everybody have camping gear. I have it because I was a boy scout when I lived in Toronto ,so thank God I am not afraid of climbing! While I am clinging to the one of the walls I cannot help wondering if Susan notices I am absent from bed, I should have told her what was going on, but sometimes I think she is jealous of her. I wish I were a better husband.

    This is being an unusual holiday- I said to myself- and the night was darker than the devil’s soul. After a few seconds when I had already climbed the first floor,I am about to get my precious christmas balls and stars when I can clearly stare through the window, a very neat window,it was something unbelievable! I saw the man taking off the wig, that precious hair of her was fake then I sight the amaze is too great, my neighbour turns around and stares at me, he is all naked,and has a gun in her right hand.

    How you dare?- she replies. I am caught red handed ,I never meant to sniff around . I try to talk ,but I cannot. The man approaches to the window , I think about escaping from him, yet it is too late I had loose the rope and I fall down. I did not even heard a scream, nor a shout,none tried to help me. I wish I had told Susan! I wish I didn’t care too much about such a nonsense like Christmas decorations.If I had thought about it twice, I would not have done it.

  2. ms727231

    Looking out the window at my neighbors yard I was speechless. My nativity scene twinkled and My lighted reindeer posed as if in midflight!

    “We will see about that!” I muttered.

  3. ms727231

    I stared in shock at the neighbors yard, the feeling came over me again. The feeling of an ice cold blast when my ex-husband walked out on me over the summer. They had stolen my christmas ornaments? With a now very hot burst of rage(for an introvert) I stormed out the door and marched right up. The walk to their front door.With a loud rap my neighbor Janet answered the door.

    “Why hello!” She beamed….she always beamed…
    “Those ornaments have been put to good use don’t you think? You were such a good neighbor when we first moved here over the summer! Giving us house warming gifts! We can’t think ypu enough. So we got you somthing.”

    I found in my hands the prettiest silver box…

    I sputtered…

  4. Hercy

    Not just one bark, but the sound is contagious and increases faster than a ladder can fall around your neck. Turning, then run with the ladder, as it clangs and bangs, swiping decorations across each pane . . . then, tripping over your own dog, as his teeth latch on.
    Lights come on (but not the twinkling kind) . . . , these were flashing white and blue.
    “No! She stole mine out of my basement, and I was just . . . ”
    Why are those scratches on your face? Who else was in involved here? Self inflicted and caused by being afraid of loud animals? …Sir have you been drinking?
    Pull that ladder off his head and search his car . . . “it’s not mine, it is my neighbor’s car.” Ok boys, wrap it up . . . Mister, turn around. Suddenly your neighbor’s door opens as she smiles and waves.

  5. Hercy

    This is a late post…briefly written…about the approach in the middle of the night.

    Not just one bark, but the sound is contagious and increases faster than a ladder can fall around your neck. Turning, then run with the ladder, as it clangs and bangs, swiping decorations across each pane . . . then,
    tripping over your own dog, as his teeth latch on.
    Lights come on (but not the twinkling kind) . . . , these were flashing white and blue.
    “No! She stole mine out of my basement, and I was just . . . ”
    Why are those scratches on your face? Who else was in involved here? Self inflicted and caused
    by being afraid of loud animals? …Sir have you been drinking?
    Pull that ladder off his head and search his car . . . “it’s not mine, it is my neighbor’s car.” Ok boys,
    wrap it up . . . Mister, turn around. Suddenly your neighbor’s door opens as she smiles and waves.

  6. NoBlock

    Daniel’s alarm goes off to wake him at 2 AM, not his usual time to get going in the morning, but this was an unusual situation. He dressed warm due to the ice storm that had settled in the area, and in as dark an outfit as he could rustle together to conceal him as best he could for his pre-dawn mission.

    He stepped out of his front door and surveyed the area for good measure, but he was pretty confident no one in this neighborhood would be up at this hour. He began as quickly but quietly as he could in the front yard snatching up little elf statues and candy canes and running them back into his garage.
    When on a trip back over to her house something catches his eye, up on the roof attached to the chimney was a Santa that was made to look like he was climbing down the chimney.

    Now this was not his decoration, but he was pissed. He decided as pay back he was getting up that roof and taking Mr. Santa.

    He looked around her house and found the ladder lying on its side, set up the ladder and climbed up. When he got up on the roof he slipped from the thin layer of ice that covered everything and made a loud thud.

    This woke his neighbor from her sleep as he fell right above her bedroom. She awoke startled, but listened intensely for any other noise.

    Daniel pulled himself back up took his flashlight in his mouth so he could see how to unattach HIS Santa, bending over the chimney he slipped a little again and when he did the flashlight fell out of his mouth and landed on a small ledge about 3 feet down in the chimney.

    His neighbor heard this also and went to investigate, not surprising to her she watched from her front lawn as Daniel while trying to retrieve his flashlight from within the chimney slipped and fell over the edge and wedged his body tight in the hole. She giggled a little to herself as she watched Daniels legs squirming from atop the chimney.

    The next morning as Caroline and her husband were getting up and preparing breakfast as they did every Saturday, Caroline excused herself to go make a fire. Good idea thought her husband, but as her husband came in to check on her he commented, “Geez honey that is a much bigger fire then we normally make. You sure about that?’

    “As sure as I have ever been.” Caroline said with a crooked smile.

  7. Icabu

    I put my cold weather gear on as I had my mad – one layer at a time. Pulling on a homely Holiday sweater I grumbled under my candy cane scented breath. What would make someone steal Christmas decorations, anyway? I zipped up my old gray hoodie with the torn pocket. And then display those stolen decorations in the lawn adjacent to their rightful owner! I pulled on my Carhartt work jacket, admitting only to myself that my stolen decorations were quite artfully displayed. I finished up with matching knitted hat, scarf and mittens, plotting my method of decoration-ectomy from my thieving neighbor’s yard.

    Stepping outside, my breath fogged in the crisp night air. A moonless darkness settled over the cozy neighborhood – with nearly every lawn and house lighted for the holidays, except mine. I imagined my breath as angry steam as I huffed in ire. Stealing Christmas decorations – what blaspheme. I’d trolled through every store in town during their after Christmas sales to collect the best for the least money. All that hard work now glittered and sparkled from my neighbor’s lawn.

    Crouching as if a thief myself, I peeked in my neighbor’s window, careful to stay in the shadows and away from the warm light spilling across the week old crusty snow and highlighting the plastic baby Jesus in manger filled with fake straw. My feet rooted as I saw my neighbor wheel her young daughter over to the window. The child’s face brightened and she clapped, looking out at the decorations in her yard. My decorations. I heard her mother begin singing Silent Night. Although muffled through the window, her voice was strong and clear. The child’s face appeared serene and peaceful, staring unblinkingly out at the pretty decorations. My decorations.

    Soon, the singing stopped. The child slept. My neighbor rested her cheek on the child’s head and wept, her tears clearly coursing down her face into the child’s hair. A lump rose in my throat as I remembered her saying a few months ago that her daughter was ill. I thought cold or flu. This appeared to be much, much more.

    Stepping back as the woman maneuvered the wheelchair away from the window, I noticed a piece of paper stuck in the bush poking my side. Leaning towards the light, I found the note addressed to me. It must have been taped to my door and blown away by the recent storm. This would be the girl’s last Christmas, the note said, and my neighbor wanted to borrow my decorations to make her yard the best in the neighborhood for her daughter. She didn’t want to buy decorations because she wouldn’t be able to put them up again, it would be too sad. She hoped I’d understand.

    I did. In fact, I grabbed a few decorations she’d missed from my basement and added them to the display that very night, humming Silent Night as I worked.

  8. Thomas

    “What a nicely decorated home,” Sandy exclaimed to her daughter, as she pulled into her driveway. “It’s much like I would have done it.” She looked again, while removing Chrissy from the child’s seat. “As a matter of fact, those look a lot like my decorations.” With Chrissy on her hip Sandy went into the house and opened the Christmas closet. Her boxes of decorations were gone.

    “Alvie!” she shouted. “Alvieee!”

    “Yes, Miss Sandy?” said the little three foot tall gnome with pointed ears and red Santa hat.

    “Alvie, did you do anything with my decorations?”

    “Uh, did I? No, I didn’t touch them.” He stood with his eyes down.

    “Tell me, Alvie. What do you know about my decorations?”

    “I can’t say. Perhaps, you should ask your new neighbor.”
    “Those decorations are very special to me. My reindeer, Donner was made by Chrissy’s father. I can’t lose that,” she said with a tear in her eye.
    Alvie squirmed, “Don’t cry. Maybe you should go talk to your neighbor.”
    “I’ll do just that, right now,” She took off with a determined stride. Out the door, across the grass and up to the neighbor’s door. There was her Donner on the porch pulling her father’s sleigh. Sandy knocked on the door.

    Now that she was here, what would she say? She would tell them how wrong it was of them to take her things. She’d give them what for. She’d get them back on her own. She could do this.

    Back in the shadows, Alvie covered his mouth to stifle a snicker.

    The door slowly opened.

    “Surprise!” There was Chrissy’s father, Don and her father and mother, Santa and Christina Claus and her friends from the North Pole.

    Her father said, “We all worked hard to get everything ready, early. So we could take an evening off to come down and celebrate an early Christmas with you.”

    HO HO HO

  9. Leanderdias

    NEIGHBOR STEALS YOUR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS

     
    “That bitch…”

    The empty decoration boxes usually limned by a thick layer of year old dust were strewn indiscriminately across the basement floor. One would assume that the least a burglar could do was keep the containers back in place once they had removed all of the box’s innards. But these remnants of unpremeditated thievery was far from deft. Brenda Cartwright lived right next door; how stupid did she think i was? The sardonic grin she gave me through the windshield of my car when i drove into my garage earlier this morning suddenly had gravid significance. It was almost as if it was a taunt of some sort, a stiletto stab to draw first blood, signaling the commencement of war. A vicious smile mirrored the thoughts of retribution that crept into my mind my mind. No one stole from me and got away with it.

    That night David had called in to say that he was covering the night shift at the airport and wouldn’t be home until morning. It was the third time in the week and i was beginning to get worried. The man was working to hard and hardly spent anytime at home. If i slept in, I wouldn’t see him until noon the next day. I assumed that he was doing so much overtime to elongate the Christmas leave he’d be taking. I understood, but it didn’t feel write.

    David’s absence did open things up though. If i was to tell him about my plan to re-steal the decorations from next door, he would call me childish and urge me to confront the neighbors face to face – but what was the fun in that ? I figured it would be as good a time as any to infiltrate the neighbor’s premises at midnight. The small community usually went to bed almost simultaneously at around 7:30 pm, and midnight seemed to have an ominous and exciting feel to it, so i made preparations. The roofs of the houses were pretty low, so it wouldn’t be hard to take the lights down without a ladder. The ones that beautified the dark veneer and draped the walls of her living room would be somewhat more difficult to retrieve. I’d have to break in.

    When it was finally time for the mission, I wore the darkest sweat suit i had, marked my face ostentatiously with mascara and set out towards the Mould residence. It was chilly outside. The wind blew hard against me as i walked up the lane. I pulled the sleeves over my numb fingers and folded my arms so that my armpits would warm my hands in the cold night air. The lights were all off next door so i confidently, yet surreptitiously, removed all the string lights that contoured the house. I rolled it up and placed it neatly in a neglected weed by the porch and made my way to the front door. I slipped off my shoes so that i would be extra silent on the shag carpet floor within. Brenda loved her furry floor, and would often boast at community picnics that she had ripped it off her ex-husband in the divorce settlement. “The trick is ladies,” she’d say over her steaming mug of sugar with a dash of tea,” Always get some full proof pre nuptials down before tying the knot. You never know when the bastards of this generation feel the urge to find ‘greener pastures’.” I spat with revulsion into the flower pot beside the door. Take that for free.

    I absentmindedly put my hand onto the door knob and turned. To my surprise, it swung open easily as if to welcome the unexpected guest, and for a moment i was bathed in a grainy darkness. When my eyes readjusted and door clicked shut, i noticed faint grunting sounds emanating from upstairs. Curiosity drove me to furtively ascend them in order to have a peak at the unfortunate man Brenda had seduced this time.I tripped over some shoes on the landing and fell soundlessly on a puddle of clothing that signaled the start of a trail that lead to the moaning bed room. Upon cautiously lifting myself off the floor, the scent of the shirt hit my nostrils like an air pocket of strong perfume while walking through Paris Gallery. It took me a few seconds to realize to whom the scent belonged. Incensed and tempestuously murderous, i stormed into the bedroom to make palpable the image that formed in my mind. There they were, Brenda and my husband David, both entwined in a cascade of sweaty white sheets with the frightened expressions of deer caught in the headlights.

    It seemed that Brenda had stolen more than just my Christmas Decorations.

  10. DaveFTW

    “Merry Margaret”

    This was vexing. No, that wasn’t quite right. This was infuriating! How dare that sop Mario Avenicci even think of touching Margaret’s favorite Christmas sleigh, let alone steal it and place it in his own yard! He didn’t take anything else, not that it mattered. Rotund bastard probably thought I was too feeble to do anything if I even noticed. Like anyone wouldn’t notice my wife’s name carved into the thing.

    The memory of when I gave it to her is still fresh in my mind, like a picture that has yet to fade. Six months of laboriously cutting and engraving every nook and cranny with these two hands. Painted it red and green and decked it with all the bells and whistles one could ask for. Carved “Merry Margaret” in big, merry letters right onto the side. The way her eyes twinkled when she saw it sitting on our snow piled lawn, lassoed to an actual team of horses rented just for the day, I knew my Margaret was in love.

    Every year since the Merry Margaret has stood prominently in our front yard. It’s even become a favorite photo spot for the locals. Margaret always had a plate of cookies ready by the door in case someone came by to ask for a photograph. I still keep the tradition. It would have made her happy.

    Then last year, that greasy little Mario Avenicci made it onto my blacklist. He asked if he could have the sleigh in his yard instead. I told him no, the Merry Margaret stays where it’s always been. Fool thought he could pay me off, which only succeeded in pissing me off. Margaret always said I was headstrong, and after the third attempt I told him not only could he not have the sleigh, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near it from now on. I should have apologized afterwards, but we hadn’t spoken since.

    The trip to the Avenicci house was a short one, and nearing the house you could see there was a crowd in the street. Confused, I quickened my pace as much as I could, and once I was upon them I saw what was happening. The neighborhood had come out, and they were pulling the sleigh in the direction of my house. One of my next door neighbors, Fred, saw me and rushed over. “Bob! If you’d have waited thirty minutes you wouldn’t have had to come! Did you really think no one was going to do anything if the Merry Margaret was in any lawn but your own?”

    My throat caught, and I could only choke out a shaky thank you; but the way Fred grinned you’d have thought I’d given him a golden goose. More people noticed me, and soon I was bundled up into the sleigh I built all those years ago for the love of my life, and was given a ride home.

  11. DaveFTW

    Margaret’s Sleigh

    This was vexing. No, that wasn’t quite right. This was infuriating! How dare that sop Mario Avenicci even think of touching Margaret’s favorite Christmas sleigh, let alone steal it and place it in his own yard! He didn’t take anything else, not that it mattered. Rotund bastard probably thought I was too feeble to do anything if I even noticed. Like anyone wouldn’t notice my wife’s name carved into the thing.

    The memory of when I gave it to her is still fresh in my mind, like a picture that has yet to fade. Six months of laboriously cutting and engraving every nook and cranny with these two hands. Painted it red and green and decked it with all the bells and whistles one could ask for. Carved “Merry Margaret” in big, merry letters right onto the side. The way her eyes twinkled when she saw it sitting on our snow piled lawn, lassoed to an actual team of horses rented just for the day, I knew my Margaret was in love.

    Every year since the Merry Margaret has stood prominently in our front yard. It’s even become a favorite photo spot for the locals. Margaret always had a plate of cookies ready by the door in case someone came by to ask for a photograph. I still keep the tradition. It would have made her happy.

    Then last year, that greasy little Mario Avenicci made it onto my blacklist. He asked if he could have the sleigh in his yard instead. I told him no, the Merry Margaret stays where it’s always been. Fool thought he could pay me off, which only succeeded in pissing me off. Margaret always said I was headstrong, and after the third attempt I told him not only could he not have the sleigh, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near it from now on. I should have apologized afterwards, but we hadn’t spoken since.

    The trip to the Avenicci house was a short one, and nearing the house you could see there was a crowd in the street. Confused, I quickened my pace as much as I could, and once I was upon them I saw what was happening. The neighborhood had come out, and they were pulling the sleigh in the direction of my house. One of my next door neighbors, Fred, saw me and rushed over. “Bob! If you’d have waited thirty minutes you wouldn’t have had to come! Did you really think no one was going to do anything if the Merry Margaret was in any lawn but your own?”

    My throat caught, and I could only choke out a shaky thank you; but the way Fred grinned you’d have thought I’d given him a golden goose. More people noticed me, and soon I was bundled up into the sleigh I built all those years ago for the love of my life, and was given a ride home.

  12. thejim

    Okay Back from The Holiday, and before it switches thought I write up a quick response. Sorry for any Grammatical errors.
    _________________________________________________________________________________________
    Uncommon Acquaintances
    _________________________________________________________________________________________

    “Tell it to me again.” said the pimply faced teen.

    “Alright, but this is the last time.” Charlie said tilting his head toward the direction of the boy but never removing his eyes from the large over grown lilac bush that sat majestically in the corner of the yard.

    “When I got home from work that night I eased my car into the garage and it was then I realized Allen had pilferage my Christmas decorations and adorned his house with them. The door shut with a thud behind me as I sat in my car. I thought this was the last time he was ever going to use that spare key to borrow another damn thing!

    A Sothern breeze delivered a relatively warm evening for that time of the year. A perfect night to retrieve what was rightfully mine. At 3am sharp I began to execute my mischievous master plan.

    I cautiously perched the top of my ladder on his roof. I ascended the rungs and stepped out on the slick asphalt. I carefully gained my footing on the roof. As I made my way across the roof there was a sound from below. In front of the garage Allen emerged with a gun and yelled for me to get down from the roof. I moved warily back to the ladder to begin my decent when a shotgun blast echoed through the subdivision. I was startled and my feet shot out from under me. My body quickly made its way down the steep incline. I fell to the pavement below, my head bounced against the asphalt. Skull fragments flew out and splattered across Allen’s driveway. My soft pulsating brain slowly made its way out. Within minutes I was dead. Allen’s eyes widen has he realizes that it was his neighbor who has just died on his driveway. Without thinking he ran over, grabbed my lifeless body, and drug it to the back yard. For the first time Allen was happy he did not finish his landscaping project and then proceeded to bury me next to a new small Lilac bush.

    The teen let out a huge laugh “I never get tired of that dumb story, he did not even shoot you!” he then let out another giant laugh.

    “Well it is better than you taking all of your mom’s pills to get high.”

    “I did not know they would kill me!”

    The evening full moon shone bright but no shadows were cast of the two who were sitting on the back fence that connected the yards.

    1. Kerry Charlton

      Oh boy, a fun ghost story. I wonder if he haunts his old neighbor now and then. A really fun story and a good take on the prompt. I liked your description of the southern breeze at night.

    2. Observer Tim

      Very clever take, theJim. I wonder how long these two will be haunting the scene of their demises. It sounds like they’ve been there a while already. I’m betting Charlie is hoping somebody – anybody – will come along with a more misadventurous death.

  13. rainiemills

    “Looks good Caroline” I said waving at my overzealous neighbor as she hangs her Christmas wreath on the door. Christmas decorating is a big thing in my neighborhood, everyone trying to out decorate the next. Come to think of it I need to start on my yard. I inventory my Christmas stash mentally…the lighted reindeer, Santa’s sleigh, the Christmas countdown sign I made last year…then it hit me. Caroline has MY countdown sign, and my reindeer and my sleigh, what the hell? I rush to the basement to check my treasure trove of Christmas decorations only to find empty bins. Are you kidding me! She stole my decorations.

    I rush outside to glare at her cheerfully putting my decorations up on her house. This means war! Slamming the door behind me I plot my revenge. Tonight, tonight I will reclaim my decorations and as for Caroline, let’s just say she will have quite a surprise when she wakes tomorrow.

    As darkness approached I packed my arsenal in a newly purchased Santa sack. This is going to be epic! Cans of artificial snow and bags of coal peeked out the top of the velveteen bag, the words Merry Christmas sprawled across the front. My sack of goodies slung over my shoulder, ready for action, Operation Decoration Rescue has begun.

    I chuckle as I imagine Caroline’s reaction to the artificial snow all over her impeccably clean windows. I carefully place three bags of coal on her front doorstep. Revenge enacted, now on to retrieving my decorations. Basking in the glory of my brilliant retaliation I didn’t notice the family of squirrels nestled into the sleigh, or the skunk underneath it as I haphazardly grabbed for my prized decoration. The first sensation I felt was sharp teeth sinking into my hand. I pulled back tripping over the cord landing face to face with a skunk. Needless to say his reaction wasn’t much better than mine, I could see the fear in his face as mine was filled with an undesirable odor. This was not at all going as planned. I shuffle towards my house, my Santa sack left laying abandoned, evidence of my failed mission.

    My clothes all rumpled, my hand swollen and bandaged, and the odor of skunk spray followed me around like a toxic cloud. I am a mess. A night at the hospital instead of a night retrieving my property is not what I had planned. “Looks good Caroline” I say as I watch Caroline fervently scrubbing the snow off her windows. A grin spreads over my face as I plot Operation Decoration Rescue Take 2.

    1. Observer Tim

      This is a clever tale of revenge gone wrong, rainiemills. The thing that kind of scares me about the MC is that, even after the first try, they’re still planning to give it another go…

      Of course, given that skunk spray gets everywhere, it’ll be pretty obvious where the sleigh came from, even after it was moved.

  14. Cin5456

    Painful Downfall

    When the cop car turned the far corner with its flashing lights but no siren, I ignored it. I had two more short strings of lights to remove from this son of a bitch’s eaves, and then I could wrap them up and take them home. The Santa and five elves were already on the ground close to my backyard gate. I was muttering to myself about the nerve of this thief when the cop car pulled up to the curb, and a spot light shined up at me on the roof. Like a deer in headlights I froze on my knees with the hammer still poised to remove another nail and my mouth hanging open.

    “You on the roof, don’t move.” One yelled through a speaker mounted on the car. Damn, he’s going to wake the whole neighborhood. I was already frozen, but I started to sit back. It was a mistake.

    “I said don’t move,” he screamed. I could see the lips of the cop in the passenger seat moving, and he looked furious. His door opened. He stepped out with his gun drawn. Dropping to one knee, and bracing his gun hand with the other, he aimed like you see at gun ranges. You would have thought I was stealing the Mona Lisa the way he shouted, “Drop that hammer over the side – slowly.”

    I couldn’t help the “Damn” that escaped, but I did as he said.

    “Where’s the ladder you used to get up there?” His partner had a bullhorn out, and it screeched as he shouted before he adjusted the volume. I could see lights going on up and down the street. A door slammed; a woman’s voice shouted, “Henry, get out here. You’ve got to see this.”

    Shit, the busybody three houses down across the street must have been watching me already to be Johnny on the spot that soon. My knees started to ache. “Officer, can I sit back? My knees hurt.”

    “Don’t move a muscle. You should have thought of that sooner. Where the fuck is your ladder?” This second cop had his gun out too. He had trouble holding the bullhorn in one hand while trying to aim with the other. If he pulled the trigger, he could shoot someone harmless, like me, or my teenage daughter, who was supposedly standing lookout at our dining room window.

    “I’ll cooperate, officer, but I was only taking back what the thief who lives here stole from me. I live next door, and when I came home today I saw the bastard installing my elves on his roof.”

    “Shut up. I’m coming up there. Todd, cover me. I see the ladder, so I’ll go up and cuff her.” He holstered his gun as he approached the ladder.

    “How am I going to get down wearing cuffs?”

    “Very quickly,” he said with a sarcastic laugh. Oh no, my osteoporosis… Broken hip, here I come.

    1. Observer Tim

      A cute story of a night where the main character is giving and getting payback. I wonder how much the neighbour paid to have actors dressed up like police arrive.

      I say this because any real police who acted like that would have not only themselves but their department sued to bankruptcy, if they were lucky.

      Nice story, Cin.

  15. Writetopian

    Christmas Cheer

    Wendell wheeled his spotless ’72 Caddy to a short stop at the foot of his driveway. Across the street at Eggbert and Ethel’s place Santa waved a mechanical arm at him, Christmas lights blinking gaily about the white whiskered face. Hey! That’s my Santa! thought Wendell. And my sleigh!

    Proceeding into his garage, red, blue, green and white light shone in his rear view mirror as he pushed the door closer button on the dash. He stepped out of his classic car to see the boxes that had held his Christmas decorations were off the shelves and scattered on the floor, empty.

    Wendell stormed into the kitchen where his wife Flora was sitting at the small table, a cup of tea steaming in her hand. “She’s gone too far this time with her stealing!” he shouted. “I spent six months putting my Santa and sleigh together. I’m going right over and get them back!”

    “Now, Wendell, have a cup of tea, dear. Calm down,” said Flora, patting the white-laced table top in front of him.

    “Why should I?” Wendell almost snarled and sank into a chair.

    Flora blinked tear-filled eyes at her husband. “Because I helped Ethel take those decorations and put them up this morning.”

    Wendell was double-stunned: “You, Flora?” and “But, it’s July.”

    Flora wiped tears from her lined face. “Well, you know how their Aunt Jilly, who lives with them and loves Christmas so much, the brain cancer is so bad, Eggbert and Ethel want to give her one last time before she goes.”

    “I, . . . I didn’t know she was that far gone,” Wendell said, sitting back from his tea.

    “Yes,” said Flora, “and Jessie, their little darling fox terrier, was such a joy to them at Christmas, that after she drowned last week in the upstairs bath tub, they decided she had to be buried under Santa’s sleigh.”

    Wendell grasped his tea cup with both hands. “Bath tub?” he said.

    “Yes,” said Flora. She took a quick sip of the still hot tea, smacked her lips and plopped an ice cube into her mouth. Cooling, she said, “And you know how much their whole family loves Christmas in their own home, they have-to have one more before–you know the bank foreclosed today–the sheriff rustles them out tomorrow morning.”

    Wendell considered quietly for a few moments, then said, “Flora, I think you and Ethel need to get back on your medications.”

  16. Writetopian

    I’ve tried posting this short comment three times before this. I don’t know anything about HTML. Do I need to to post? Oh well, I’ll give it another try.

    Christmas Cheer

    Wendell wheeled his spotless ’72 Cadillac to a short stop at the foot of his driveway. Across the street at Eggbert and Ethel’s place Santa waved a mechanical arm at him, Christmas lights blinking gaily about the white whiskered face. That’s my Santa! thought Wendall.
    Proceeding into his garage, red, blue, green, yellow and white lights shone in his rear view mirror as he pushed the door closer button on the dash. The boxes that had held his Christmas decorations were off the shelves and scattered on the floor, empty.
    Wendall stormed into the kitchen where his wife Flora was sitting at the small table, a cup of tea steaming in her hand.
    “She’s gone too far this time with her stealing!” he shouted. “I spent six months putting my Santa together. I’m going right over and get it back!”
    “Now, Wendell, have a cup of tea. Calm down,” said Flora, patting the white laced table top in front of him.
    “Why should I?” said Wendell, sinking into a chair.
    Flora blinked tear-filled eyes at her husband. “Because I helped Ethel take those decorations and put them up this morning.”
    Wendell was double-stunned: “You, Flora?” and “But, Flora, it’s July.”
    Flora wiped tears from her lined face. “Well, you know how their Aunt Jilly, who lives with them and loves Christmas so much, the brain cancer is so bad, Eggbert and Ethel wanted to give her one last time before she goes.”
    “I, I didn’t know she was so far gone,” Wendell said, sitting back from his tea.
    “Yes,” said Flora, “and Jessie, their little darling fox terrier, was such a joy to them at Christmas, that after she drowned last week in the bath tub, they decided she had to be buried under Santa’s sleigh.”
    Wendall grasped his tea cup with both hands. “Bath tub?”
    “Yes,” said Flora. She took a quick sip of tea. “And you know how much their family loves Christmas, they just wanted one more before—you know the bank foreclosed—the sheriff rustles them out tomorrow morning.”
    Wendell thought quietly for a while, then said, “I think you and Ethel need to get back on your medications.”

  17. Writetopian

    Christmas Cheer

    Wendell wheeled his ’72 Cadillac to a short stop at the foot of his driveway. Across the street at Eggbert and Ethel’s place Santa waved a mechanical arm at him, Christmas lights blinking gaily about the white whiskered face. That’s my Santa! thought Wendall.
    Proceeding into his garage, red, blue, green, yellow and white lights shone in his rear view mirror as he pushed the door closer button on the dash. The boxes that had held his Christmas decorations were off the shelves and scattered on the floor, empty.
    Wendall stormed into the kitchen where his wife Flora was sitting at the small table, a cup of tea steaming in her hand.
    “She’s gone too far this time with her stealing!” he shouted. “I spent six months putting my Santa together. I’m going right over and get it back!”
    “Now, Wendell, have a cup of tea. Calm down,” said Flora, patting the white laced table top in front of him.
    “Why should I?” said Wendell, sinking into a chair.
    Flora blinked tear-filled eyes at her husband. “Because I helped Ethel take those decorations and put them up this morning.”
    Wendell was double-stunned: “You, Flora?” and “But, Flora, it’s July.”
    Flora wiped tears from her lined face. “Well, you know how their Aunt Jilly, who lives with them and loves Christmas so much, the brain cancer is so bad, Eggbert and Ethel wanted to give her one last time before she goes.”
    “I, I didn’t know she was so far gone,” Wendell said, sitting back from his tea.
    “Yes,” said Flora, “and Jessie, their little darling fox terrier, was such a joy to them at Christmas, that after she drowned last week in the bath tub, they decided she had to be buried under Santa’s sleigh.”
    Wendall grasped his tea cup with both hands. “Bath tub?”
    “Yes,” said Flora. She took a quick sip of tea. “And you know how much their family loves Christmas, they just wanted one more before—you know the bank foreclosed—the sheriff rustles them out tomorrow morning.”
    Wendell thought quietly for a while, then said, “I think you and Ethel need to get back on your medications.”

  18. n-rani

    I look down at my phone and read “Come with lights and canes-2560 Heatherway at 21:00”
    A text similar to all the rest I get from this unnamed number; I sigh waiting for the day when I can retire from my strenuous job. I drive my Sedan up the driveway to my characterless house unlike the neighbors whose house is decked out in lights and multiple candy canes.
    I carry the grocery bags into my house and greet my son.
    “ Hey Charles do you think it is time for christmas decorations yet?”
    “Sure would you like me to bring them up from the cellar?”
    “ That would be great son, thanks”
    Charles stomps down the wooden stairs and a couple minutes later returns with the usual decorations. I open the boxes eyeing the lights and the candy canes of our own, very similar to our neighbors in fact.
    “ Is it funny that our neighbors have the same decorations as us?” I ask Charles
    “ It would be funny if I had not loaned them half of our decorations, I saw that we had extra boxes of lights and candy canes down basement so I let the neighbors use them.”
    My face is in shock, my heart is beating. I look around the room and see my son staring at me with wide eyes. .
    “ Are you OK Dad”?
    I frantically rip open the candy canes, nothing inside. Looking up at Charles I realize I am acting deranged. Calming myself down I meet my sons concerned gaze.
    “ The decorations you gave to the neighbors were very special to me and I need them back right now.”
    “ What’s going on Dad, they are just decorations we can buy new ones if you need them that bad.”
    “Son even I don’t have that much money”
    “ It would only cost a couple of dollars”
    “Way more than you think Charles. What is important is getting the decorations back.”
    Walking over to the neighbors house Charles and I prepare what we are going to say.
    The neighbors understands since the decorations had “sentimental” value to me, and agree to help me take down the decorations and put them back in the box.
    Once the neighbors house was stripped of decorations Charles and I went back to our own house.
    “ Why did we need the decorations back” Charles asked.
    “Some day I may be able to tell you but that day is far in the future.”
    Suspicious but goodnatured Charles lets go of the topic and goes to his room. This allows me time to look at the decorations. I lift up the lights and shake them. A rattling sound comes forth and I relax my shoulders. I opened up a giant, plastic candy cane: stuffed to the brim. Later in the night I load the boxes in the car and tell Charles I am going to the store. It is 8:30 p.m. and I have half an hour to drive to Heatherway rd. Turning around in my seat I look at the christmas decorations. Opening the candy canes once more; I see the packs of weed. I shake the lights and the sound of pills rattling fills my ears.

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