Eleven years of living right next to each other, and in that entire time, they've exchanged maybe three sentences total. No real friendship in the traditional sense, no long conversations over the fence, barely even proper introductions ever happened.
And yet, every single morning, without fail, this neighbor leaves fresh flowers at our gate. Has been doing it the whole time, quietly, consistently, long before I was even old enough to notice or ask about it.
Neither of them has ever asked the other why. It's just become this wordless little routine between two women who barely know each other's full names, somehow needing zero explanation to keep going after all these years.