This is my account of a crap-tacular evening, which occurred a little over a week ago, when my husband and I came home from work and saw our neighbor’s home had been burned in broad daylight.
We didn’t notice anything strange about the neighbor’s house until we had already parked in our own driveway. We noticed the small things first, like the white vans, instead of the gutted home. When we finally did notice, my husband and I stood in the driveway for a spell, trying to piece together meaning from the clues. Old man Jones, who lives across the street, and his granddaughter, Anna, who lives around the corner, walked over our driveway to relieve us of wondering. Continue reading