As the moon cast its gentle glow over the neighborhood, I found myself lying in bed, tossing and turning, unable to surrender to sleep. The peaceful stillness of the night was punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves, and for some reason, I felt an inexplicable sense of unease. Resigning to my insomnia, I turned to the window, hoping the tranquility outside would calm my restless mind.
However, what I saw instead was something so strange and unexpected that it compelled me to sit up and take notice.
Through the fog, illuminated by the dim streetlights, was my neighbor, Mrs. Henderson. Nearly seventy, she had always been the embodiment of a quiet, reasonable, and modest lifestyle. Yet here she was, displaying a surprising agility as she scaled the fence of her own yard. Her movements were deliberate and with a focus that was both astonishing and unsettling. Transfixed, I watched as she jumped over her fence, landed softly, and without missing a beat, made her way to my fence with the same intent determination.
