A friend told me to try writing prompts. Here is the result:

My neighbors hate me. They don’t trust me. They don’t talk to me. They even avoid eye contact. It’s sad really. They think I am crazy and a thief. I do my best to be cheery and pretend it doesn’t bother me, but it does, immensely. I could tell them the truth but they would never believe me. They just think I am pathological now and they would rather see me move. I suppose I should tell you what happened.


I was standing in my yard watering my fruit trees I had just planted. Kids went inside because it was a scorching hot day. All the neighbors were either at work or inside with the air conditioners blasting cold air in their faces. I wanted to make sure my new transplants stayed happy and moist. I heard a noise behind me but I was not concerned because my neighbor Steve is notorious for tinkering and fixing something. He is always popping in and out of his house at various times of the day and not particularly predictable. I assumed it was him and proceeded with my peaceful watering as the sun burnt my tanned summer skin. Pretty soon I heard cursing, “Damn woman, look at what she did to my pants!”

I didn’t know that voice so I turned around and nobody was there. I shrugged my pink shoulders and turned back around. I decided the heat and sun were getting to me so I turned the hose onto myself. Cooling my shoulders and drinking big gulps of cold water straight from the hose. Not the healthiest way to get your water but better than the alternative.

The kids let the dogs outside and for several minutes all I could hear were the chickens squawking, ducks grumbling, and turkeys gobbling in protest to the pooches wrestling, growling, and chasing everything. I then heard the bark change. The “stranger danger” bark that alerts me to look around. I did that and saw that my dogs were standing face to face with a garden gnome. He wore the most awful looking pants! Hot pink pants on a garden gnome. I looked around wondering how a garden gnome got in my yard. I diverted the attention of the dogs to a stick and they forgot all about Hot Pants. I looked down at the gnome and picked him then said aloud, “Where on earth did you come from, Mr. Hot Pants?”

“My name is not Mr. Hot Pants! My name is Sven. I used to live next door but Debbie painted my pants hot pink and was going to give me to her granddaughter. I left.” Said Sven the gnome.

I about dropped his heavy tiny concrete body on the ground. I must have felt shaky because he said, “Hey now, be careful! Be careful! Put me down. I can manage. I got here didn’t I?”

“Um. Um. “ I stuttered and it felt like I did that for an eternity. It must have lasted a while because he became short with me and snapped, “Spit it out already. Yes, yes, I talk! Get over it. Are you going to help me or not?”

I stumbled around with the words and stood confused, blinking hard and thinking the sun was really powerful. I was hallucinating. I was able to say, “How can I help you?”

“First you can take me inside before someone sees you with me.” Said Sven.

I had lost all ability of clear logical thought. I never thought about the fact it looked like I was stealing a gnome from Steve and Debbie. I was only following what Sven said to do. I remember thinking I had collapsed from the heat and this was only a dream before I fried in the sun. I walked over to my hose with Sven under my arm. I set him on the ground next to me as I turned off the water. I looked over at him as I twisted the handle to the right tightly and said, “What did they do that was so bad that warranted you to run off like a fugitive?” Sven said nothing. I tried again, “Well? What was so horrible? I know hot pink pants may not be great but it is not the end of the world is it? Lots of people wear hot pink and many are men. I think you are making a mountain out of a mole hill, Sven.”

As soon as I completed my sentence I heard Steve say, “You talking to my gnome there?”

I turned around with a jump. I felt my heart skip a beat and then start up very fast. I felt a bit ill from the fear and realization I was not passed out on the ground and having a freakish dream. I was standing before my neighbor and he caught me talking to his garden gnome.

“Yeah, something like that.” I said slowly then I quickly stated. “I found him, uh, it, in my yard and I was afraid James would hit with the lawn mower so I brought it with me over here. I was going to bring it back later. Since you are here you can take it.” I smiled the biggest shit eaten grin I could muster up at that point.

I reached down and picked up the garden gnome and handed him off to his rightful owner.

Steve gave me a weird look as he took the concrete gnome in his hands, “thanks.” And walked back to his house and I walked into my front door. Am I going crazy? What just happened? How did that gnome get there? It was too heavy for the dogs to carry. Were the questions swimming in my pre-heat stroke brain.

“Hey boys, I am going to go lie down. If you get hungry there is pizza in the freezer.”

“OK!” the boys yelled back in unison.

The next morning I went out to check my trees. I brought out organic fruit tree fertilizer stakes to shove into our hard clay soil. It was too hard, even after watering every day. I went back to get the hose. When I was approaching the fruit trees I saw out of the corner of my eye HOT PINK. I whipped my head around to see that damn garden gnome in my yard under the willow tree several yards from the fruit trees.

“Damn it! Go away! You are making me look bad. Go home!”

“No, please, help me! I need you to paint my pants. Please!!” said the gnome.

I walked near the tree. My hose digging a trench into the dirt with water as I conversed with this gnome named Sven. “Listen Sven” pointing my finger and squatting under the weeping limbs, “I am not about to get in bad with Steve and Debbie so you can feel better about your concrete pants!” I stood up and walked away to finish my work. I never thought about it after that, OK, I lied I thought a lot about, Just not enough. My neighbor saw that menace under my tree when he got home from work; hard to miss a hot pink gnome under a tree. I didn’t see his face but I am sure he was wondering why I kept stealing his wife’s gnome. The gnome she was getting ready to give their granddaughter. This was not going well for me.

The gnome became a real nuisance. Every morning I heard his pleas to help him and every afternoon the neighbor would come back over and retrieve him. He could be found in front of my door, in the chicken coop, in the garage, under the porch, or in the garden. The last morning he came to the house and his whole body was painted in neon green, yellow, polka dots, and of course hot pink. He looked awful and no longer a respectable garden gnome. He was hard to look at without bursting into uncontrollable bouts of side splitting laughter. I picked him up so the neighbor would not see him in my yard and brought him inside. I waited for night. I needed the cloak of darkness to put Sven back where he belongs. Lights were out. All was quiet and it was significantly dark. As I approached the garage two flood lights automatically turned on. The dog flew out from its newly installed dog door, and the neighbor was outside before I could blink. There I was caught looking like a thief holding their tacky garden ornament.

That was it. My neighbors were furious with me. There I stood holding the gnome. I tried to explain how I was bringing it back but they did not believe me. This why my neighbors distrust and dislike me. All because of a stupid garden gnome that would not leave me alone and every day now I see evidence that the rumor is spreading that I am a bad seed. No one waves as they drive by, my family is not invited to BBQ’s, and neighborhoods kids are not allowed to play with “those kids.” It has been rough and we are now thinking of moving. Being the neighborhood nut job is neither the job description I want nor need. I, myself, never want to see another garden gnome as long as I live!