Chapter 19
May arrived with an absolute explosion of vibrant brilliant colors,
turning the carefully planted garden into a massive lush green paradise,
and filling the warm air with the incredibly sweet scent of flowers.
The neighborhood slowly came alive with loud cheerful outdoor activity,
as people finally emerged from their dark stuffy winter houses completely,
and started firing up their rusty backyard charcoal cooking grills.
We decided to host a massive casual neighborhood block party,
inviting everyone on our long street to come over for food,
and actively rebuilding the strong community ties we had sadly neglected.
Trevor manned the hot grill with a large pair of tongs,
flipping juicy burgers and thick hot dogs with practiced confident ease,
and chatting amiably with the friendly elderly couple from next door.
The children ran wildly through the tall green thick grass,
playing chaotic games of tag with the other loud neighborhood kids,
and getting their nice clean clothes absolutely covered in dark mud.
I sat comfortably in a brightly colored folding lawn chair,
sipping a cold glass of sweet freshly squeezed sour lemonade,
and answering polite questions about the deep history of the house.
People were genuinely completely fascinated by the old unique architecture,
complimenting the intricate wooden trim and the sturdy brick foundation,
and expressing deep relief that it had not been unfortunately sold.
I felt a huge surge of protective pride swelling in my chest,
knowing that this beautiful building was a beloved neighborhood historical landmark,
and that my stubbornness had successfully saved it from the wrecking ball.
The party lasted well into the warm beautifully clear starlit evening,
with neighbors sharing incredibly funny stories and cold tasty beers,
and creating a wonderful atmosphere of deep mutual support and friendship.
Trevor looked completely at home among these ordinary working-class people,
having completely shed the arrogant pretentious skin of his former life,
and happily embracing the simple honest reality of his current situation.
When the very last grateful guest finally walked home late that night,
we sat together on the front steps looking at the empty street,
and agreed that it had been an absolutely perfectly successful wonderful day.
May was a joyful month of community connection and bright blooming flowers,
May you like
proving that we were never truly totally alone in this big world,
and that good loyal friends were always right outside our own door.
