July 14, 2012
The courtyard is quiet and the air is mild, coaxing. I remember in the colder months, there seemed to be more activity from my neighbors. I could hear loud music downstairs, and see other neighbors outside by the grill smoking pot or cigarettes. But now, it's just still, with the utilitarian glare of each unit's automatic porch lights. An old woman lives alone in the unit where I met J. She leaves her blinds open with the TV on nightly. Dark figures walk by beyond the courtyard under the dark shapes of trees as a car turns on its headlights.