I found an extension lead running from my neighbor’s garage into the socket on the back of my house. I confronted him: “That’s my power you’re using. It’s on MY meter!” He laughed: “C’mon, it’s only pennies!” So I installed a lockable cover. This morning, I froze when I found a note through my letterbox saying: “You’re colder than your electricity, mate.” I stared at the note for a while. At first, I was angry. Then a bit confused. Then… strangely, I felt guilty. I didn’t know why. I wasn’t the one stealing power. Still, the words hit something in me. Maybe it was the “mate” at the end. We used to be, sort of.

His name was Ron. He’d lived next door for about ten years. Always fixing up old things in his garage. Radios, bikes, furniture. A few years ago, he lost his wife, Maureen. Cancer. After that, he kept to himself more. We used to talk more. Barbecue in the summer, swap lawnmowers, that kind of thing. But after Maureen passed, he sort of shrank into his garage and left the world outside. I tried to keep the connection going. Knocked on his door once or twice with extra soup or pie. He always thanked me, but never invited me in.

So when I saw the extension lead last week, I snapped. I thought, “That’s it. I’m not a charity.” I didn’t stop to wonder why he might need the power. I just bought the lockable cover and screwed it in tight. And now, this note. “You’re colder than your electricity, mate.” I tucked it in my coat pocket and went about my day, but it stayed with me like a pebble in my shoe. That evening, I looked out my kitchen window. Ron’s garage was dark. It had been for a few nights now. His lights were always dim anyway, but now, pitch black. No movement. No sound of that old radio of his crackling in the background.

Out of some uneasy feeling, I walked over. I knocked. No answer. I called out. Nothing. Then I saw him through the small frosted window—on the floor. I climbed the fence and rushed inside. The door was unlocked. He was breathing, but barely. I called an ambulance. Turned out Ron had diabetes. He hadn’t been eating right. Said the fridge stopped working a week ago and he hadn’t the money to fix it. His electricity had been cut off. That’s why he’d run the lead. He didn’t want to tell anyone. He didn’t want to feel like a burden. READ MORE BELOW