The Midnight Mower

There was this neighbor I had who always waited for the stars to mow his lawn. Each night, like clockwork after ten, the hum of his mower broke the silence. We didn’t get it—why when the neighborhood was draped in night’s calm?

They called him the Midnight Mower, a shadowy figure pushing his roaring beast under the moonlight. It was an odd routine, yet it became our lullaby, the peculiar soundtrack of late evenings. Never did figure out why he chose the night, but it was our little suburban mystery, our nocturnal neighbor’s ritual.

Next: Will the hunting season ever end?