The houses I walk by want to be castles or mansions or maybe they are and they’re just miniaturized versions. A dog barks from a yard three houses away. The sky is cobalt blue. An open window to a party inside where men brag about tax breaks and make jokes about being born on the right side of the tracks. The mini-mansion is lit so bright I can see right into the dining room where a woman sits in a straight backed chair with a smile plastered on her face. The sky is black; jeweled stars and a cresting moon.
No comments:
Post a Comment