For years, I felt the city closing in around me. The constant noise, the crowds, the relentless rush of people moving from one place to another—it was all too much. I was tired. Tired of being part of the unending cycle of work, commute, and city life that never seemed to offer a break. I longed for something simpler, something real. I started to dream about a life where I didn’t have to worry about the next meeting, the latest project, or the noise of traffic at all hours of the day. What I wanted was peace. Real peace. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I eventually took the leap. I left behind the life I knew, packed up the few belongings I could carry, and sold everything else. The idea was to start fresh—completely disconnected from the chaos. After weeks of research, I found a piece of land, tucked away in the wilderness, far from any city or town. It wasn’t the most accessible place, but that was exactly what appealed to me. It was untouched. A place where I could carve out my own little corner of the world. I had everything I needed here, and for the first time in years, I felt truly free. But nothing lasts forever. One afternoon, as I was chopping firewood by the stream, I noticed something that didn’t belong. A shiny new SUV slowly made its way up the dirt road leading to my property. The sound of tires crunching over gravel was the first sign of disturbance. I stopped what I was doing, wiping the sweat from my forehead, and squinted into the distance. It wasn’t a neighbor—no one had come by for weeks. As the vehicle drew closer, I noticed a man step out, dressed in a pristine suit that looked completely out of place against the backdrop of the wilderness. He looked me up and down like I was some kind of pest. "Your house isn’t painted the way we require. Your lawn is overgrown, and your fence isn’t up to standard. There’s no paved driveway, and that chicken coop is unsightly. We expect you to make these changes immediately. Consider this your first warning." My stomach dropped. I had no idea what he was talking about. I had spent years making this place my own, and now someone was telling me it wasn’t good enough? I crossed my arms. "I’m not part of your HOA, and I’m not going to follow your rules. This is my property." William didn’t like my response. "You’ll comply, or we’ll take action. You have 30 days to make the changes or face fines and penalties."
I shook my head, fuming. "Get off my land. Now"...