i looked out and someone was mowing my lawn—with a riding mower! stood there dumb for a second, finally decided to go out and investigate. She was large, roundish, brown-olive, kind of like Rose. I waited for her to come around again, and mouthed “Thank you,” and she kind of nodded and kept going. That didn’t seem quite good enough, so I picked up some twigs and stuff to make it look like I was still out there for a reason, and positioned myself to where I would be when she came around again. This time she stopped to talk to me. We established that she lived in the next huilding over, and I told her which unit of this building I lived in and stuff. Eventually it came out that she was worried about her job. People would come to her house and be talking to her about something professional, and here’s the neighbors’ grass, all tall and ghetto. I said I understood that (which I sort of did) but then again you know, it’s kind of a matter of preference how low you set the blade on the mower and stuff, but yeah, I was letting her know that yeah, I’ll keep up with it a little more but it *is* my job and I actually like doing it so no, I didn’t really want her to just do it for me, and I was just getting a glimmer of thinking I wonder if she would let me borrow her riding mower sometimes (the yard a lot bigger and more rolling and lush than it is in real life, and the lines left by her driving pattern looked sumptuous in the dappled shade) when I looked up said said, “Oh shit, there goes the mower!” And it’s true, it was driving away slowly but surely on its own straight towards my end neighbors’ (the flower people) patio. We were like, “Oh shit, the grill!” but then it swerved and we were relieved, but then it swerved again and smashed straight into their glass back door! The old guy (Chuck) came out and looked at it and said, “That’s a beautiful lace pattern in that glass.” The lady came out too, and it turned out there was another old guy, Chuck’s brother or something? He didn’t seem worried either. He was saying, “I wonder if I should put on some socks.” I had gone over there just a few barely-perceptible paces behind the Rose woman because I wanted it to be clear this wasn’t my fault—which I was afraid they would think it was, because it involved a lawn mower and I was the one who was always mowing the lawn. If nothing else, I figured it was less likely that I would have to worry about the Rose woman stealing my job from me anymore. I started walking back around towards the front, and my toes squished in mud that I didn’t think had been there before.