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The Psycho In The Yellow House Chapter 1 : The Knapsack Stalker It all began in April 2009, when a new neighbor moved into the neighborhood. The small yellow house had been empty since I arrived in the area two years earlier. A rancher brought me in to tend to nineteen sheep and nine dogs on a ranch far makai of the yellow house. The tropical drought had enabled me to live in a tent, comfortably, in the forest reserve that is mauka of the vacant yellow box. I wore a knapsack when I walked down to work. One day the new tenant came over to meet me as I picked papayas on the next door neighbor's seven acre homestead. I have permission, even to this day, January 12, 2011, to harvest the macadamia nuts, tomatoes, and papaya that grow year round in this tropical drought. The weather was steady, the region calm, the new neighbor: agitated. She approached me, twitching and shaking. We introduced our names. She asked, "Where do you live?" I said, "That's private". She became furious. She threw a temper tantrum and muttered her bitter disappointment at my disobediance. She walked 160 feet to her land and shouted, screamed, "Never come on my property!" For the next 18 months, I gave her the silent treatment. When she taunted me, I was silent and turned my back on her. I walked away. When she attacked me, I turned the other cheek. When she made false complaints to the cops, I was visited. Next week I will flee this tropical paradise and go to the snows of Connecticut. I believe that the stalker made a premeditated plan to harrass me until she eliminated me from my neighborhood. Because I wore a knapsack, she imagined that I was an undesireable homeless man who could be scared away with enough attacks. Twice, her truck moved to threaten me. Twice she attacked me with her hands. Nine dog attacks will be described in great detail n the following chapters.
Chapter 2 Sometimes
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