Writes Catherine in Melbourne: “I was preparing breakfast in the office kitchen when I opened the fridge and reached for the margarine tub to butter my toast. Ten seconds later, I was fearing for my life.”
“How low do you have to go to steal flowers from someone’s grave?” wonders Ash in East Lansing, Michigan.
At the very least, I suppose, you’ve have to be someone untroubled by the prospect of being publicly chided or privately haunted. In Providence, Rhode Island, Moira noticed that the flowers at this memorial had very recently been dug up again.
Writes Jenny in San Diego: “There are four of these identical laminated signs posted at face height around the tiny front lawn of a house in my neighborhood. The lawn actually would look fine if it weren’t for the rude signs.”