The exercise:
Write about something that has been: neglected.
My niece Natalie turned two years old today. Strange thought.
Stranger thought? Max is less than two months away from his first birthday.
What in the world.
Mine:
The grass in the front yard is tall now, waving at passersby whenever the breeze picks up. In the quiet surrounding midnight you can hear creatures stirring within. If you are especially unlucky you will see those nocturnal beasts as well.
Neighbours stopped filing complaints months ago, once they realized town officials had as little interest in entering the property as they did. They have redirected their energies from letter writing to keeping their children and pets well away from the offending yard.
Though, truthfully, the pets know enough to keep their distance all on their own.
There are rumours and whispers and countless stories about the unknown owner. Some claim to have seen him, others are adamant that he is long dead. Threats to drop a lit cigarette in the grass are uttered daily, but none have been followed through on so far.
Perhaps because they never really meant it. More likely that they fear the retribution that would surely come their way.
However where, precisely, that vengeance would originate does not seem to be a subject anyone in the town seems eager to discuss...