He Was the Friendly Neighbour… Until The Camera Caught This
It was supposed to be another ordinary Sunday—kids laughing, burgers on the grill, my mother-in-law capturing it all with her trusty old camcorder. That night, I sat down to transfer the footage, expecting shaky shots of potato salad and backyard chaos. But then I reached the final clip. The camera lingered—too long—on our laundry room window. And that’s when I saw him. A man standing over our laundry basket. Not my husband. Not a stranger either. It was our neighbour, and he was holding…
It started like any other Sunday—grill smoking, kids screaming with joy, the scent of charred hot dogs hanging in the air. My mother-in-law, Linda, held court in her faded green lawn chair, camcorder in hand like always. That thing was her baby. She trusted tapes over clouds, always saying, “Plastic doesn’t glitch.”
When she handed it to me that evening, I didn’t expect anything more than shaky footage of mustard-stained shirts and messy toddlers. “It’s full,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And the new neighbour’s dog has more brains than its owner.”
I laughed and took it, never imagining what I was about to find.
The last clip started like the rest—my husband, Dave, helping our son with his kite. But the camera shifted. It panned to the side of the house, then… it stayed there. Still. Focused. On the open laundry room window.
