The Grumpy Old Man Moves in
He Didn't Move In. He Was Moved In.
When a fifty-year-old oak tree crashes through The Grumpy Old Man's roof, he's left with a suitcase, a bad attitude, and a temporary address at Sunrise Palms, a 55+ retirement community where everyone is aggressively enjoying their golden years.
He is not enjoying anything.
The thermostat doesn't make sense. The coffee comes in pods. The welcome mat says "Live, Laugh, Love." A woman named Diane keeps sliding event schedules under his door. His next-door neighbor grills hamburgers every evening and won't stop waving. A man named Hank is trying to recruit him for pickleball. And a small, scruffy dog named Biscuit has decided, without permission, that his patio is home.
The contractor says the house will be ready soon. The contractor has been saying that for weeks.
As the days stretch on, something unexpected happens. Not all at once. Not dramatically. But slowly, stubbornly, in the spaces between complaints, the kind of thing a grumpy old man would never admit to, and a reader will never forget.
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