Written by RF Wilson – The cars of serious buyers and treasure hunters, speculators and the idly curious, inundate the neighborhood. The tree-lined streets are ablaze with orange and red and gold, redolent of football and bonfires, hinting of winter. By 6:30, people are knocking on the door at 136 MaplewoodContinue Reading
Written by RF Wilson – I couldn’t sleep. Few of us can. That’s the deal. Wandering around, night after night after night. It’s not like we have homes to go to where we could close the blinds to shut out the light during the day. I could have killed for aContinue Reading
Written by RF Wilson – When old lady Cheminski disappeared after Christmas that year, we didn’t think much about it except it was nice to not have her yelling all the time. She was always shooing the birds out of her flower garden, hollering at dogs who wandered into her yard,Continue Reading
