Mark, a grumpy neighbor with a permanent scowl and a chip on his shoulder, moved in with military precision and a clear disdain for anything resembling joy. Despite his two sons being surprisingly warm and polite, Mark was cold, rigid, and dismissive. He especially despised the flower garden next door, which had been lovingly nurtured by the elderly grandmother who had lived there for decades. He claimed to hate the bees it attracted, calling them pests, but really, it seemed he just hated beauty and peace. When the grandmother tried to welcome him with a plate of cookies and a smile, he slammed the door in her face without a word. Soon after,

without warning or permission, he poured cement over a portion of her flower bed that bordered his yard, sneering as he did it and muttering something cruel about “putting an end to the infestation.” The garden, once vibrant and buzzing with life, stood wounded—but not for long. The grandmother, heartbroken but not defeated, quietly got to work. She filed a complaint about his oversized, illegally built shed, and not long after,