Our landlord installed a new light outside the front door, or maybe he changed the angle of the one that was already there, but now it shines on the curb exactly where I put the garbage and recycling for pickup on Friday nights. For some reason this makes me feel paranoid, like I’m on display to everyone while I’m shuttling our loads of boxes and bags of glass down to the curb.
I’m putting our last load of recycling out for collection when I hear, down the street, the revving of an engine. I look up and there, at the stop light, idling on the empty street, is the garbage truck just waiting for the light to change, so I quickly drop the last bag next to the two piles of broken down boxes and the dead vacuum cleaner and hurry in the front door and upstairs before they arrive.
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