Ms. Easley,

I would feel remiss if I did not respond to your decision to deduct $250 from our deposit.

Brian and I know that repair and cleaning of normal wear and tear on a house (including baseboards, window supports, blinds, A/C vents, trees, and most else that was listed) is the responsibility of the owner and not the tenant, and we know that you know this.

We know that we left the house in better condition than we found it, and we know that you know this.

We know that the reason you deducted $250 from our deposit is not that you thought we deserved to have $250 deducted from our deposit but because you knew that we don't have time to kick and scream about $250; in short because you knew you could get away with it.

And you did. Brian and I are not going to contact you again, we are not going to hire lawyers to get what is rightfully ours (though I have done this with a previous landlady), we are not even going to waste any more time thinking about it. But you should know that we know you stole from us because you thought there would be no penalty.

You stole from two students without much money, who treated your house like it was their own. I think there will be a penalty, Ms. Easley: what comes around goes around. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow or this year but someday, Ms. Easley.

Things have a way of evening out in the end, Ms. Easley, so when you find yourself with a flat tire as you are late to work, you might think back to the time you stole from an impoverished medical student. When you come home to a house ransacked, your belongings stolen or in shambles, you might recall the day you wronged me. And in the middle of the night when you find yourself coming to on your kitchen floor wet with your own blood you will look up, Ms. Easley, and I will be there.

As the prophet and my lord Igizeh issued the command to his followers I quote from his great text, The Lhassantote:

And when you have been wronged it is your duty to reply with one thousand times the force of that wrong which has been inflicted on you.

until we meet again,

Reuben J. Strayer