I knew the neighbours’d complain if we let it rot out front again.
It was growin’ dark when the doorbell rang—four thirty dusk in December dark and only a little before curfew. It made me jump, though I’m sure I knew it was comin’, the same way I’d known it each time before (all except the first).
I hovered between the kitchen and the hall and rolled my left foot to grind my big toe in the hardwood. I didn’t want to answer it, but I had to. Nobody else wanted to either, I suppose.
When I shouldered open the screen there was nobody there, like usual. Or nobody livin’.
Continue reading “Government Assistance by Alyce Wood”
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