Hope is an abandoned house.

No one has time to live there anymore. Most of windows are broken from the neighbor kids fighting over who could throw the rocks harder. The once well-tended wooden slats have been taken by peels of paint, mold and termites. Looking from the sidewalk, I notice brigands have stole the numbers off the mailbox post. They could have tended the garden while they were there. Instead, it had been filled with cherry bombs and splayed flat. Some homeless people had tried building a fence across southern access of the lawn, seemed a fool’s errand considering the broken windows. The roof had seen better days. I’m sure the decking is warped, those shingles were probably from the 1880s by the style, it was the same kind that caused the Tammany Hall to collapse. Shame, the corner stones were set perfectly.

Standing from this distance, my vision almost missed a ‘for sale’ by owner sign leaned against the door frame. I honestly just wanted the lot, for resale myself. I call the number. The owners had been placed into a nursing home because of declining health. The family’s lawyer was selling off their assists to cover the cost to live a few more years and had run out of money. Because of the location, and its current state, he assured me this would be deal only a fool would buy. The asking price was right for me. Half the block had been vacant for many years, a former retirement home for former circus elephants set out pasture by Ringling brothers after deciding elephants had better things to do than be gawked at by tired, broken, grey skinned behemoths. Besides they were happier then, savannahs of Africa or logging in India.

I’ve owned the home now for 46 years. Sank every dime I ever owned into it. Took years to repair the damage caused by professional plumbers, fly by night insurance salesmen, and one greedy banker. I’m ready to retire now. Raised my children here. Met my wife while taking out the trash from vagrants left while the owners helpless. I’m still working on the place now, digging a ditch next a new Airbnb being built on the former herd's home. The runoff is a mess, caused my place to be flooded from poor planning. Going next week to see if the codes department will let me dig my own ditch, probably have to pay someone else to do it, underqualified, I’m sure.

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