Oct 16, 2026 · 35 min · 13 segments
Her fence is 10ft tall. 🖋️ The Author: https://www.reddit.com/user/sophiethetoad/submitted/ 📹 Video!: youtube.com/watch?v=F60-sfKWkWo 📖 Read Along!…
I didn't realize my new customer used to be my neighbor until I pulled into her driveway.
The street name had sounded vaguely familiar when I first read it.
A few landmarks on the drive over had sparked something in me.
Nothing solid, though, just a prickling sense of recognition I couldn't place.
It only clicked when I finally saw my old childhood home sitting right beside my customer's property.
I know it's strange that it took me that long, that I didn't recognize anything when I put the address into Google Maps, but my uncle moved me out of his quiet neighborhood when I was six.
I barely remembered anything about living on this street or in that house.
My girlfriend, Ellie, said that wasn't quite normal.
Told me gently that it was probably my brain blocking things out on purpose.
I sat gripping the steering wheel long after I'd parked, just staring at my childhood home.
It backed onto a large woodland area, tall trees looming far above the road.
The bungalow itself looked abandoned.
Shattered windows, empty bottles scattered across dead yellow grass.
Clearly, no one had lived there in a long time.
A heavy pressure settled into my chest.
For a moment, I considered leaving, but I'd only started my lawn mowing business a few months ago.
I needed the money, and this woman was only my third customer so far.
She hadn't called like the others.
She emailed instead.
"Am interested in your service every week Sunday work." I replied that Sundays were fine and asked for the address.
She sent it, followed by another message.
Money on table.
Help self to drink and meal." It struck me as odd that she'd contacted someone who lived an hour away instead of a local business, but she'd promised a generous tip.
Still, sitting in the van, I tried to remember my old neighborhood.
I didn't realize my new customer used to be my neighbor until I pulled into her driveway.
The street name had sounded vaguely familiar when I first read it.
A few landmarks on the drive over had sparked something in me.
Nothing solid, though, just a prickling sense of recognition I couldn't place.
It only clicked when I finally saw my old childhood home sitting right beside my customer's property.
I know it's strange that it took me that long, that I didn't recognize anything when I put the address into Google Maps, but my uncle moved me out of his quiet neighborhood when I was six.
I barely remembered anything about living on this street or in that house.
My girlfriend, Ellie, said that wasn't quite normal.
Told me gently that it was probably my brain blocking things out on purpose.
I sat gripping the steering wheel long after I'd parked, just staring at my childhood home.
It backed onto a large woodland area, tall trees looming far above the road.
The bungalow itself looked abandoned.
Shattered windows, empty bottles scattered across dead yellow grass.
Clearly, no one had lived there in a long time.
A heavy pressure settled into my chest.
For a moment, I considered leaving, but I'd only started my lawn mowing business a few months ago.
I needed the money, and this woman was only my third customer so far.
She hadn't called like the others.
She emailed instead.
"Am interested in your service every week Sunday work." I replied that Sundays were fine and asked for the address.
She sent it, followed by another message.
Money on table.
Help self to drink and meal." It struck me as odd that she'd contacted someone who lived an hour away instead of a local business, but she'd promised a generous tip.
Still, sitting in the van, I tried to remember my old neighborhood.
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