In as much as things made sense they also seemed deranged. Not her actions, but the actions of others towards her. Her actions, which might at times appear to an observer as being somewhat odd; did not always originate with her. Most of the time she was re-acting, from that point of view one could sum it up by saying that her responses were as outlandish as were the actions being directed towards her.

If in debate one were bold enough to venture and suggest that perhaps, she might be a victim of unfortunate circumstances, the rebuttal could contain the argument, and with much conviction, that the events put upon her weighed heavily in her favor that the actions cast upon her were not of the random garden type variety, but more likely were part of an ongoing thread of purposeful attacks, that, had not yet achieved their conspired goal, and thus being so, the purpetrators were not yet ready to make the final knot and cut the thread, not until their goal was achieved and the game could go no further. So there she hung, caught in a web of xconspirtacy her thread pulled tight, the needle dangled, the work remained unfinished.

And all she was left with was holes. There were holes in the walls, behind false door jams and trim, holes which contained wires which ran from the old part of the house to the new part, wires that were not installed during any construction. The gaping holes provided informationsm, ironically they filled some of the gaps in the ongoing puzzle. She had commented once that to her it appeared as if the entire house had been completely disassembled and then reassembled by poor craftsmen. Reminding her of the cardbard houses she built as a child in the days of paper dolls and such. And then she had remembered how he had run with that statement, feeding her imagination with all kinds of insanities, suggesting that,

“Perhaps it was The Greys who were responsible, because they were the only ones who could to such a task, but then again.” he had added,

“ they would have done a better job at piecing things back together.”

Contrary to his suggestion, she believed that the holes, for sure were evidence of human -not alien-intervention, and as unsavory a thought that was, it took on a sinister shade of grey when she gave thought to the location of the majority of them, which were not located in the most favorable locations being that they were mostly in her daughters bedroom.

This finding had troubled her for some time, and it also explained many other strange things which had happened over the past 3 years, Things she would rather not remember.

One of those things occurred one morning when her daughter and she were going out to the store. On the other side of her 8 ft. wooden privacy fence, which bordered her neighbors side pathway, they discovered a car tire. That morning was not the first time she had seen it leaning against the fence, but rather the second. The first time she noticed it she thought that one of the neighbors perhaps had had a flat and had left the flat tire against the fence before going off to work. She never the less felt a bit uncomfortable with this idea because for one the guys that owned the property were gay, and they were rather festivious regarding their property, keeping it tidy and maintained at all times; secondly the tire was positioned directly opposite her daughter’s bedroom windows.

Due to that she had rolled it to the back of their neighbor’s property and lodged it under their garage apt. and now a few days later it was

back. That it was positioned in the exact place as it had been the first time raised loud warning bells in her head.

It was plane to see that it was a peeping tom situation. And just as she was having that thought who came popping around the corner? It was her other neighbor – the potter.