Real Estate


I sat at the end of a road I don’t know very well, north of Bath, at least I imagine I was near the end (a long train was chugging past and obscuring all things west). An old man, handsome and keen, nodded, pushed a deposit cheque across his dining table like a promise ...


Every Saturday morning when I was a kid I’d ride my bike from Garsington, a village just outside Oxford, England, to my grandparents’ house on Boswell Rd., and then walk over to the Temple Cowley community swimming pool, where I’d do lengths for a while.  It was one of my very favourite routines.


(Written in March.) I sat in my car outside a pretty downtown house that had just been listed for sale. The ploughs have pushed a lot of snow to the curb lately and I had to mount one of those abrupt slump-faced piles in order to leave room for traffic to get past. It felt a bit like I was in a very small jet...


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