I live under the greatest horror known to man, the Homeowners Association.

The scrutiny of their esoteric rules is benign only to them.

You may hear tales of HOAs that are sticklers to strict laws,

but let me tell you that mine is far worse.

I once saw them cite an old lady for undesirable decorations on a house.

They were napkins that were blown around a porch after a barbecue.

Driving through the streets, the neighborhood almost looks like a movie set.

Within minutes of being expressed, all sense

of personality is crushed. Still, I moved here at a much better price than if I lived

in the city. I have more space too. For the cost of my house, I would be living in a small

studio apartment that I wouldn't even own.

So, I put up with the HOA simply by almost never being at home.

The only downside for me is the commute.

I have to travel far to get to work, and even further if I want to do anything recreationally,

but it's not too bad, knowing that I've never caused any reason to be sighted.

Until one day.

I was sitting in my little cubicle at work when I got an email.

At first I thought it might have been spam.

It was a citation from the HOA that I was being written up about something.

I thought this couldn't be the case since my home looked pretty much the same as when I first moved in, but I opened

it anyway, just in case.

My disbelief faded.

...