That evening, Clarence didn’t water the yard. He didn’t check the windchimes or set out the owl decoys to keep squirrels off the beds. He just stood at the back fence as the sun dipped low, the garden around him wilted and uneven. And then, for the first time, he felt angry. The next day, Clarence went to City Hall.
He waited in line, filled out a form, and finally sat down with a traffic liaison named Heather. She smiled too much and used words like “temporary bottleneck” and “natural adjustments.” Clarence explained the situation. She nodded and frowned sympathetically.
“I understand your frustration, Mr. Briggs. We’re working on a city-wide traffic plan, and this lane closure is part of a longer-term upgrade. Residents were notified of the detour.” Clarence stared at her. “Detour to where? They’re cutting through my garden.”
Heather offered a paper map. “It’ll just be for a few more weeks.” “But you said it’s part of a long-term plan,” Clarence said. “Which is it?” Heather shrugged. “Short-term pain for long-term gain, they like to say.” “There are growing pains with these things. We appreciate your patience.”