He fished the object out with the long net. It was a cheap plastic water bottle, half-empty and smelling of stale energy drink. His stomach tightened. It was a small piece of trash, but it felt like a massive violation.
He looked toward the high wooden fence separating his property from the new neighbors. They were loud young people whose bass thrummed through his walls late at night. He had hoped they would respect boundaries, but the evidence was mounting.
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A few days later, he returned from a short grocery run to find the side gate unlatched. He hurried to the pool deck, his heart pounding uncomfortably.