Fugit

He had been arrested by the time I came back with my grocery bags. He was the “get out of my lawn” kind of guy, who could pick a fight for the most benign reason. Last I heard of him was when his nephew emptied his house some years later. He’d been placed in a psychiatric ward.

Damn, that’s heavy. I genuinely hope you’re both in a better and happier situation right now.

Back when I was 17, I had a neighbor pull a gun right to my forehead. I shoved him away and said, in essence, “yeah, fuck you with your BB gun, I have some shopping to do”. He shot another neighbor in the gut not long after. I avoided death by dumbfounding him in a way that sound like it comes right out a daydreaming teenage fantasy.