He planted a new sign—larger this time. “PRIVATE PROPERTY – DO NOT ENTER.” He painted it himself in block letters and reinforced it with a wooden post and rope. By morning, someone had clipped the rope and pushed his sign down.
Clarence stared at it for a long time. The disrespect didn’t feel careless anymore. It felt practiced. He walked the edge of the property, checking damage. One of his ceramic bird planters had been knocked over. The wings had chipped off. The soil had been kicked like it was nothing.