Order
Everything was in order.
Her house was clean, her laundry
was done (and put away), and there were fresh flowers impeccably arranged on
the table.
She’d washed the windows, keeping
an eye on the world from the neat little house she and her late husband had
built after they married. So many memories, good and bad (mostly good) were
here in this place that had sheltered her family and all their friends for
three quarters of a century.
She felt tired but content,
sitting in her rocker, chained to the giant oak in the front yard, waiting on
the bulldozer.
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