I don't know their names. We are not truly neighbors, just people living in houses in the same neighborhood, a community of strangers.
Which is really no community at all.
... I was a stranger and you invited me in ...
Rw
.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Lighted Windows
I am up at 3am with a stuffy nose. I go downstairs and heat a mug of water. As I sip it the steam helps me breath easier. From the darkness of our kitchen, I look out at our neighbors' homes. Down the block a kitchen light is on. The young couple, their two daughters and a golden retriever live there. In the house on the corner the faint glow of a television says someone is probably awake, could easily be Dad. The boys are out of high school now, their cars no longer fill his driveway. Next door to Dad and the boys, there is a light on in the living room of the single mom, a woman with an outgoing daughter who attends elementary school. The other day the girl stopped by on her bike to share the news! She is taking her first ballet lessons this fall.
I don't know their names. We are not truly neighbors, just people living in houses in the same neighborhood, a community of strangers.
Which is really no community at all.
Rw
.
I don't know their names. We are not truly neighbors, just people living in houses in the same neighborhood, a community of strangers.
Which is really no community at all.
Rw
.
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