PART 2
The rumble of diesel engines rolling down my private road like mechanized thunder shook the coffee mug in my hand.
I stumbled to the kitchen window and witnessed the most audacious act of property theft in modern suburban history. Three massive cement trucks, a crew of six workers in hard hats, and one very satisfied HOA dictator were orchestrating a military-style operation right on my property line.
Delilah Peton was having concrete poured completely around my gate posts.
She was sealing my property shut.
I threw on my boots and stepped out onto the porch, pulling my phone out to record. The acrid smell of wet concrete mixed with thick diesel exhaust. Delilah stood safely outside the work zone, a designer travel mug in one hand and her trademark clipboard in the other.
When she spotted me, that predatory shark smile stretched across her face.
