We moved into this neighborhood over 40 years ago. One time I think I counted over 100 houses here.
About 35 of those years I have exercised running and/or
walking year-round on these streets. I
watched families come and go or come and stay and grow old.
Speaking of growing about 18 to 19 years ago a three-
generation family moved in. They had an
accent. They kept to themselves
When the little girl of the family was about 4 or 5 years old,
she would let out blood curdling screams.
She screamed often. I think her
mind was in another dimension. I think
when she was old enough for school she stayed home because she didn’t
communicate.
I remember one time I walked by and she was sitting by the
curb in the rain screaming. Her
grandfather was speaking to her kindly and softly trying to talk her into
coming back inside.
About a year ago I saw her and her brother riding bikes and
it seemed she was having a good time with him.
Today, again I was walking by their house and the girl was
out in front trying to train a little white dog to walk with her with a lease. I decided to speak. I told her it was a cute dog. She thanked me.
She has grown since I last been close to
her. She looks about 19 or 20 and
dressed to accentuate her feminism. I
told her my dog Willow died in October, 14 years old.
She let out a heart broken, “Oohhhhh” the identical sound I
heard many females, young and old expressed when I told them about Willow.
Whatever she had or was cloudy about apparently, she got out
from under it.
The way she dressed I wonder if Peer Pressure had anything
to do with her change.
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