Vacant lot

Houses have eyes. From my window I can see life in the vacant lot across the street.

Peasant women in bright clothes free their donkeys and let them eat weeds that stand above the snow. The women build a fire to warm their hands.

Students cut across the lot, their neat black coats setting off black hair and eyes and mustaches.

Last summer this lot held a house and garden with a fountain and a rose blooming. I could see, then, only one old man, reading behind a high fence. The city grows.

I will not mourn the old days. As one era passes, another is born.

Share this story:

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK