"I erected a cross in the very back of the property, under the birch trees, in the corner on the border with the adjoining property, where lived the man who verbally abused me. It was a very simple structure, simply made of two tree branches that I tied together with string. That cross was frequently being desecrated, sometimes entirely dismantled. Almost always, when the cross was assaulted, there would have been left on the trails nearby yet more carcasses of desiccated birds, and sometimes white feathers that had been liberally sprinkled there. There was a rather odd man living three properties over, an elderly man who appeared to have mental health concerns. Only once did he try to engage me in conversation. He had wandered over to the edge of my rented property, was leaning on the fence (I imagine I might have just caught him in the act of trying to trespass), and he actually tried to get me in a quarrel about why I ought to buy the property. Discerning that he was rather daft, and possibly suffering from dementia, I simply left him in peace.
"It also turned out, that that same elderly man, Dutch, I think, kept a brace of white pigeons that he often let fly around the neighbourhood. To this day, I wonder if that was the source of the white feathers that were frequently being scattered on my trails, and if he or the nasty man next door were responsible for desecrating the cross, and perhaps for distributing the dried bird carcasses. I will never find out. I do know this. Every time I made such a discovery on the property, it was always preceded by a dreadful and horrible sense afflicting me that something was suddenly dreadfully wrong. I had only to go out in the back to discover the evidence."
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