That evening, Clarence didn’t water the yard. He didn’t check the windchimes or set out the owl decoys to keep squirrels off the beds. He just stood at the back fence as the sun dipped low, the garden around him wilted and uneven. And then, for the first time, he felt angry. The next day, Clarence went to City Hall.
He waited in line, filled out a form, and finally sat down with a traffic liaison named Heather. She smiled too much and used words like “temporary bottleneck” and “natural adjustments.” Clarence explained the situation. She nodded and frowned sympathetically.