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The Pool Was a Living Memorial
For Arthur, the crystal-clear water was more than a luxury; it was a connection to his late wife, Eleanor. She had loved floating on her back, staring at the stars. His daily ritual of testing pH and alkalinity, of skimming every last pine needle, was an act of preservation. He maintained the chemical balance with the same precision she had used in her garden. The pool’s perfect reflection of the sky was a mirror to their past, making each new disruption feel like a desecration of shared memory, not just a property issue.