Neighbours | RECENT |

A few weeks later, a small, wooden gate appeared in the cedar slats. It wasn't formal—just a hinged section they could swing open. Now, instead of stray basketballs, the "thud" against the fence was often a knock. "Arthur! We made too many dumplings!" "David! Come look at these prize-winning roses!"

They worked in silence at first, the whine of the saw cutting through the morning air. But as the debris cleared, the tension did too. David talked about his failing tomato plants; Arthur shared the secret to his prized soil mix. By noon, the shed was accessible, and Arthur found himself sitting on his porch, sharing sandwiches with the people he had spent a decade ignoring. Neighbours

The fence was still there, marking the boundary of their homes, but it no longer marked the boundary of their lives. They had learned that while good fences might make good neighbors, an open gate makes a community. A few weeks later, a small, wooden gate