Mark laughs. Throws the charter away. That Friday, no corn. Instead, he leaves a note: “John—let’s talk this out like adults. —Mark”
“Mark and Lisa moved out on Thursday. That was their second mistake.”
Mark runs outside. Every other house on the cul-de-sac has a single can of corn on the porch. Gleaming. Untouched. John Persons stands on his own porch, hedge clippers in hand. He clips the air once. Snip. The Neighbors John Persons Comics
A quiet cul-de-sac at dusk. Identical houses with different shades of beige siding. A single figure stands on a perfectly manicured lawn: John Persons , 40s, plain gray sweatshirt, holding a pair of hedge clippers. He’s not trimming anything. He’s just standing there, staring at the house two doors down.
“They moved in on a Tuesday. That was the first mistake.” Mark laughs
“The neighbors come and go. But John Persons remains. Always watching. Always waiting. Always… neighborly.”
Want me to continue this as a full serial or turn it into a comic script format? Instead, he leaves a note: “John—let’s talk this
John Persons sits alone in his living room, watching TV. The screen shows a live feed of the empty house two doors down. He takes a bite of a tuna noodle casserole. He smiles. Barely.
