The House -13-

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It was late in the afternoon and I was still tossing from one side to the other trying to sleep a little bit. A 15 minute nap could make me as new, but finally I gave up. Somebody in the neighborhood was playing the ukulele. I opened the News app and read a few articles from “Reuter” and “The Guardian” to keep up with what was going on in Europe. Declining economy in the South, great effort to keep the Iranian deal, refugees … Old news.

The boxes and bags with my things were still there, and I decided to put them away a little later. For the moment I took a seat on the folding chair on the porch. Maybe I could see or hear something from the house next door.

A woman’s voice sounded in the alley. “Mary, did you let the cat out again?” Then I heard Phillip’s voice, “He comes in my garage all the time.” “I know,” the woman continued,” he wanders the whole street. That’s because Mary here doesn’t care. Right, Mary?” Mary didn’t answer.

That might be the cat that showed up at our door today.

It seemed weird to me to listen at this conversation, but that was how things were on the peninsula. While across the bridge the neighbors on our street were very private and showed up only to get in their cars, it was the opposite here. On weekends or after work, people spend time at the beach or on the patio. Neighbors from 2-3 houses gather together for a glass of wine in the evening and chat and listen to slow jazz or country music.

I bent over the fence to catch a glimpse of the lady who was upset with Mary, but I couldn’t see her. The angle was too narrow.

 

 

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