Jerry the Peeper
I am not a “peeper”. The mere insuation implies depraved notions, lurking in the bushes, gazing with perverse intentions into unsuspecting peoples’ houses. Honestly, if a guy can’t take a casual glance out his own window without being accused of deviant behavior, then I don’t know what the world has come to. But I suppose I’m starting my story in the middle. Let me go back to the beginning… The house in back of mine had stood empty for years — an old Victorian style with dilapidated siding and an overgrown yard, suffering from prolonged neglect. That was fine with me. A bit of a recluse, I have no use for pesky neighbors, either the well-meaning but over-friendly sort, or the type that has a complaint about every trivial thing. I work from home, semi-retired …