My block, v1

My block is in transition. Ten to fifteen years ago, it was probably all grad student rentals. Our house, for example, was let out to 5 grad students who put plastic on the windows and stuff like that. Fucked it up good. So some parts of the block are still like that, while others are people like us, -uppies who no longer justify the y, if indeed the p. Certainly not the u.

On the corner lives Toni Morrison. Or, rather, she owns the house. Nobody lives there. We never see her there. She put hundreds of thousands of dollars into sprucing the old house up, gutted it, but did nothing about the roof. Now, most evenings, there's a statuesque black Mercedes Benz planted out in the meticulously manicured paving stones of the driveway. The author herself! You might think. No, indeed, it is not. It is, rather, her son, who lives half a mile away with wife and kides, but likes to watch the big screen TV up at momsies. Is he sneaking away from bath and bedtime duties? Hard to say.