It's golden hour here. Always. The design is the dilemma.
The property values are measured in audacity, and the neighborhood watch is a collection of Darlings who stopped filing formal reports when it became clear the incidents were the attraction.

I refer to them as the Darlings because I simply can't be bothered with their actual names. You know them. The question is which one you'll claim you don't.

The Drama lives here too. It takes the stage on cue, ready to perform as if it's doing you a favor. The timing is impeccable. It always is. Nobody is ever surprised. Everybody acts surprised.

It didn't arrive all at once. It accumulated. Years of The Drama with no return address, collecting into something permanent and entirely too beautiful to take seriously.

Most Darlings learn to decorate around the Drama.

I opted out. Curiosity had other plans for me.

I followed a thread out of Havoc Heights, the interesting one, obviously, all the way to the edge where the color drops off. At the edge sat a pile of grey rocks, dull little things. Naturally, I picked one up. Suddenly loud became quiet.

In that one quiet spot, I found The Still Point. The only address on The Verge where the chaos has no forwarding information. And there, standing unreasonably tall, a building looking suspiciously peaceful, entirely unbothered by the chaos on both sides of it. The door was left wide open, so I moved in and named it Still Point Manor.

Living just outside Havoc Heights has its advantages. Distance has a remarkable way of improving one's perspective.
Unfortunately, Havoc Heights has an irritating habit of expanding.

For the longest time, I believed the Darlings were generating the noise. They weren't. Chaos created them. Drama keeps them occupied.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered that someone was you.

Every unnecessary performance, every RSVP to Drama, every spectacularly avoidable decision makes the place a little larger. I'd prefer if you'd stop feeding the Drama. Mostly because I enjoy my mornings.

I turned on the Wi-Fi and began broadcasting unsolicited advice into your dimension. If I can catch you on The Verge before the Drama crosses over, perhaps I can avoid a rather unfortunate real estate situation.

Fortunately, the signal travels well. You're reading the transmission now.

I'm Serenity Sarcasm. The dirty chai is always brewing. Stay delightfully grey, Darling.