RDP Wednesday: NARROW
There are six houses on Narrows Street- six old stucco houses with rusted wrought iron fences separating them. Two of the houses are painted beige, three are painted pink and one looks like it could have been blue, but that’s a tough call.
The lawns around aged houses are dried and dusty and the trees are spindly- and for the most part you could say that about the people who live on Narrows.
Like their houses they look like they’ve had too much sun and not enough water.
Here on Narrows, none of the neighbors never really look at each other, they never say ‘hey there’ to each other. They’re a solitary bunch- even in their own homes.
The dogs on Narrows Street do not chase the cats and the cats don’t chase the birds, they sit near their houses and quietly they watch the days roll by.
Narrows is a quiet street- quiet as a tomb.
Effie Pastore lives in the house that may have been blue and she has always hated living on Narrows Street.
Sometimes her dusty disinterested neighbors see Effie standing on her roof looking up towards the sky – at least they hope she’s looking up towards the sky and not at them because Effie Pastore’s eyes are wide open and Effie’s eyes are not closed and they are not full of dust.
Her neighbors wished she’d close them, they wish she’d just crawl into her house and that Effie would let them rest in peace.