The neighborhood that I live in right now isn’t much of a neighborhood, really. It’s more a few group of streets with a few houses on each row, separated by plots of land, broken concrete, and overgrown weeds.
My house is lucky. It’s fully constructed, and is situated between two other built houses, both of which are occupied.
For the past few months, I’ve been woken up at 8 AM every weekend I’ve been in town to the sound of drilling and yelling. If I grumpily looked out the window, I might have seen clouds of dust and bulldozers moving around on a plot of land that is visible out of my side window. Everyday that I can recall, construction workers would be laboring away at a square of land. Continue reading