The next morning, I woke up to the sound of screaming.
I peeked out my window and nearly burst out laughing.
Linda was standing on her porch, covered head to toe in glitter. Her hair sparkled like a disco ball, and her clothes were ruined.
She looked like she’d been dipped in glue and rolled in a craft store.
She was furiously shaking the box, trying to get the glitter off, but it was no use. Glitter sticks to everything.
Moments later, she stormed over to my house, clutching the box like it was a live grenade.
“HOW DARE YOU!” she yelled, pounding on my door.
I opened it with my sweetest smile. “Oh, Linda!
Did you accidentally take my package again?”
“You think this is funny?” she spat, shaking the glitter-covered box at me.
I crossed my arms. “Funny? No.
Satisfying? Absolutely.”
She stammered, clearly struggling to come up with an excuse. But I didn’t give her the chance.
“You know, Linda, if you don’t want surprises like this, maybe you should stop stealing my packages,” I said, keeping my tone calm and pleasant.
“Consider this a holiday warning. Next time, I will call the police.”
She wanted to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth. Finally, she turned on her heel and stormed back to her house.
Word spread quickly around the neighborhood.
Turns out, I wasn’t the only one Linda had been targeting.
Several other neighbors came forward, sharing similar stories of “lost packages” that magically reappeared after they confronted her.
Some of them had been too polite or nervous to call her out, but after my glitter stunt, they felt emboldened.
Linda tried to keep a low profile after that. For the rest of the holiday season, she barely left her house. And every time she did, I could still see little flecks of glitter in her hair, no matter how hard she tried to wash it out.
As for me?
I haven’t had a single package go missing since.
Sometimes, a little sparkle is all it takes to set things right. Happy holidays indeed.
