Perchance to Dream

I wasn’t too thrilled when the new neighbors moved in.

Look, I don’t care if they’re gay or not, really, but… did they have to be next door? Oh, don’t look at me like that, I just don’t want to be close enough to hear their extracurriculars, and you know this development’s walls are paper thin. One can only do so much with noise-cancelling headphones.

But, say what you will, they throw one helluva sweet party.

I was nervous about the landscaping. The bigger guy just has a knack for making anything grow, and can do some amazing stuff with pergolas and arches. That poor bedraggled rose bush at the mail box looks beautiful now that he’s trained it to grow over the trellis.

How did it get so big, so fast?

The little guy, well, he can throw a party like no one’s business. Barbecue, tapas, shawarma, burgers and brats, he can do them all. I don’t know what he puts in the fruit salad, but I can’t get enough of it.

So when I got an invite to their summer party, I couldn’t wait to go. They were running a tavern, they said. Hand-crafted beers and ales.

And poker tables, tucked discreetly in a shady corner.

Now, I don’t tell the missus, but I can make a good side hustle from a quiet card game or two. So I picked up a mug of some fine ale, traded my stake for some gilt house tokens, and set about to play the night away.

I’m not sure what the four tights-wearing boys were doing there, with the hippy names, but hey, they kept my mug topped up. And the guy in the corner, dressed like he was in a play or something, scribbling with his feather pen and muttering “dost thou” under his breath.

I must have kept my wits about me, because no matter how many times Moth topped my tipple, I kept winning. Even Cobweb whistled as the glittering pile of gold got higher, but he dealt cleanly, trading nervous glances with our hosts.

I knew better than to let the bets ride. I cashed out, took my winnings back home, secured them, then came back for the food.

At least I didn’t behave like an ass.

But I woke up in my own back yard, wet with morning dew. I don’t know how I got there.

The missus wasn’t thrilled with me neither.

I felt weird. Like what happened? I didn’t drink that much, did I?

Glancing over the fence, the poor garden next door looked shriveled up.

After breakfast, I head the whine of a motor. I peeked out a window, and the neighbor had a leaf blower out, sweeping the leaves together in a huge pile, that the other was raking into bags. That they dragged inside the house.

They glared at me.

I checked on my hidden winnings, to see if my suspicions were correct.

Not acorns and leaves, like I expected.

Bitcoin.