sharply up the hill, where I’m greeted with a barrage of barks from multiple
dogs as I push up the steep incline. A Ford Ranchero and Toyota Supra flank
my sprint, and I approach a recent flip, with its typical gray paint and bright
green door, like mine, and raw wood fencing. Turning up the last stretch, I
kick it into high gear and notice the young black man throwing something for
his small dog to fetch. Another neighbor family dismounts a minivan, and I’m
across the street and home. The light on, I heave my way up the stairs.
In the kitchen, I refill the Mason jar, then sit in my butterfly chair in the back
yard, where I watch the sunset as a sliver of moon comes up over the Elysian
valley. I recount the run and look down at the expanse I just explored, the
river of highways and rushing water, a world of people and mysteries, and
love and challenges surrounding my perfect, privileged perch.
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