text | un: sds
My mother, Rose Da Silva, has returned to the ocean. I know she was close to a lot of people here and I thought it was important to let everyone know.
[ She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, truth be told, but she knew she couldn’t selfishly hold onto the information when Rose knew and cared about so many people in this place and vice versa. But even this small amount of public acknowledgment cuts her to the bone. ]
[ She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, truth be told, but she knew she couldn’t selfishly hold onto the information when Rose knew and cared about so many people in this place and vice versa. But even this small amount of public acknowledgment cuts her to the bone. ]
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Shit, I'm pretty sure I know the place. I've seen it a few times.
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It's a hard place to miss, as its one of the larger houses, in a neighborhood of somewhat smaller ones. At least for now. Once in a while, the landscape likes to rearrange the furniture, as it were.
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I haven't experienced that yet but I can firmly say I'm not looking forward to it.
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Nor do I: I currently have very forgiving neighbors who don't object too much when the wind gets into the wrong quarter and blows the smoke from my fire pit over the garden wall that separates us. I use the fire pit as an incinerator at times, but mostly as outdoor warmth.
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Then let's keep our fingers crossed our homes don't get moved much in the future. Yours for the neighbor thing, mine for the map I've created. It wouldn't be too much trouble to create another one but I don't really want to.
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