In the alleyway adjacent to my bedroom the old man behind the steering wheel applies more pressure then necessary and his car shudders, dies then shakes alive

I fall back to sleep

The behemoth trash collection truck screeching brakes and loud gears rumbles in the alley picking up metal dumpsters then, replaces each one with a thunderous crash.

I get out of bed

I prepare morning tea, the crisp vital fluid will help direct me toward a new day I enjoy the thought of sitting in the courtyard with my drink

Next door, little dog barks , doorbell rings neighbor lady yells hello as if directing her voice to a mountain top.

The door next to hers, a gentleman, in quick retaliation plays piano with petal to floor enthusiasm the dog barks with renewed vigor the neighbor lady threatens law suit.

I shut my windows

In the stark loneliness of living, true solitude becomes the holy grail; the measure of your status (becomes) how close to the street you exist.

Susie Harris

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