Let me introduce you to your new obsession: Just Room Enough Island, the real estate equivalent of "new universe, who dis?"
Floating between America and Canada like nature's own panic room, this 3,300-square-foot middle finger to suburban sprawl hosts exactly one house and one tree – a minimalist masterpiece of misanthropy.
The Sizeland family (seriously, that name) snagged this waterbound fortress of solitude in the 1950s, back when Americans still understood the concept of "enough."
Take one step off your porch? You're swimming. Try to add a Mar-a-Lago wing? The river says no. This microscopic paradise makes Manhattan studio apartments look like Versailles on steroids.
If this were an Airbnb, I'd be fighting every introvert in North America for booking rights. Sadly, like affordable healthcare and functional democracy, it remains just out of reach.
Previously:
• Instead of 'Triangle of Sadness,' try 'Gilligan's Island.' It doesn't think so highly of itself
