At the annual meeting of the Wild Woods Homeowners Association, we sit in rows of ugly armless chairs. Neighbors exchange pleasantries, assume expressions of polite interest as our elected officers give their reports about road repairs, insurance premiums, a dead deer . . . someone has cut down a tree on his own property without a permit . . . someone doesn't bring in her trash cans as soon as they're empty.

I imagine passing a note with the words: "If you want me . . . ," not glancing at the surprised faces as each person reads the note and passes it along, so many under-utilized master bedrooms, so much privacy in these wooded acres, only a few squirrels, an occasional dog barking, the sound of the mailman driving away.

If you want me. . . .