destruct

An elderly woman lives in the house on the corner, has for decades. The trees on her property had grown tall and lush; they left her yard in constant shade, a shadowy grove hidden behind a rickety, white fence. Over time the wood has rotted. A handmade wooden stand holds empty glass bottles filled with rainwater. Orchids nestled in the crook between branches grow wild, are beautiful in bloom when the speckled sunlight finds its path between mottled leaves. 

Landscapers for the week have parked their trucks, radio emitting the same playlist every day. They cut down the canopy in the back and piled branches along the roadside. They dismantled her tall fence and began to replace it with sturdier, darker wood. They culled the previously-wild front yard. After the work, any passerby can now see straight through to her front deck. The rattan chairs coming apart at the joints. The glass table holding a ceramic ashtray, several burnt stubs interred. If one stopped to look closely, they would see the yellow eyes of a rat, opossum, or skunk through the holes in the damaged planks.

No. 107