One Before she did anything else today, Clemmie had to check up on her next door neighbor, Dom. Why Dom had moved to Sun City was not clear. He had never joined anything, attended anything, nor shown interest in anything. He just sat in his villa watching TV, playing video games, and smoking cigarettes. He owned the tiniest of the three attached villas, the one in the middle with no side windows and little sun. Clemmie lived on the left, and a couple she hardly ever saw owned the right-hand villa, using it as a hotel when they visited grandchildren in the area. When they arrived, which was infrequently, they used their automatic garage door opener, drove in, closed the garage door behind them, and that was that. Nobody ever spotted them again. Clemmie wasn’t sure she’d even recognize them. It was agreed that Clemmie had the least rewarding neighbors in Sun City. Luckily, in her pod—the slightly creepy collective noun Sun City used instead of neighborhood–the little villas were tucked close together in heavily landscaped culs-de-sac, so Clemmie knew all her other neighbors–wonderful friendly people who hosted outdoor barbecues and took her bowling and carpooled when everybody went to…