This doesn't necessarily mean that people have closer relationships. But residents certainly get to know each other better than in other urban settings. And this can breed a certain level of comfort and a more communal atmosphere.
Take that, New Urbanism movement.
***
One day this week, I decide to walk to work. This takes about forty-five minutes. But it's a pleasant autumn day and the walk allows for quiet thought and introspection.
Mrs. Wonders takes a well-deserved day off from work. She has our car available for whatever errands or outings which might interest her.
***
During my lunch hour, I take a stroll through the downtown quarter. The sun is shining and there's a hint of the ocean in the air. The street is filled with people, many, like me, enjoying one of the remaining days of favourable weather.
Suddenly, I notice a car passing by. It is our car and, strangely, Mrs. Wonders isn't in it.
Instead, I see Florence, our next door neighbour at the wheel. An elderly woman I don't recognize sits in the passenger seat.
***
While surprised, I remain unconcerned. There is surely a good reason for Florence to be driving our car. Perhaps her car is unavailable and Mrs. Wonders has graciously given loan of ours.
This is the way of The Sack.
This is the way of The Sack.
***
At the end of the day, I return home. Walking up our street, I see Computer Doug cutting his grass. The grimace on his face is easy to notice.
Computer Doug is not a man who enjoys home maintenance.
Whenever he's engaged in one of these activities, one is immediately aware that he's been assigned to the task. His wife, Marion, typically looks after these matters. But she has gone out of town for a few days.
Whenever he's engaged in one of these activities, one is immediately aware that he's been assigned to the task. His wife, Marion, typically looks after these matters. But she has gone out of town for a few days.
I walk by Computer Doug unnoticed because he is grimacing with his head down. But I do observe that he is using my lawn mower.
***
This does not concern me, either. Quite likely, he has run over the electrical cord on his mower once again. Mrs. Wonders has likely offered the use of our lawn mower.
This, too, is the way of The Sack.
***
I walk up the front steps to our home. Mrs. Wonders has left the front door opened, so the fresh air can stream through the outer screen door.
I like the old screen door a great deal. It makes a comforting, creaking sound when it's opened. I could lubricate the hinges, but I prefer the sound.
***
As I enter the house, I call out to Mrs. Wonders. I use a term of endearment used only in the privacy of our own lives. I couldn't bear to tell you what it is.
Just before entering our front room, I hear a reply.
"Hi, honey, you're home.", says the voice.
***
Sitting comfortably in my front room is Oscar. He is resting on the overstuffed armchair, with his feet upon the ottoman. He has already been supplied with drink. And he's listening to Tom Waits.
Mrs. Wonders is nowhere to be found.
Mrs. Wonders is nowhere to be found.
***
Oscar enjoys my front room immensely. He says it looks like his would, if he had made "different decisions. By this, he is referring to procreation.
Mrs. Wonders, according to Oscar, is over at his house, enjoying coffee with his wife, B.W.
B.W. stands for Bad Wife. She is alternatively known as G.W. or Good Wife. Her name, at any given time, depends on how much mischief Oscar has caused.
***
I tell Oscar that I will join him for drink momentarily. Proceeding upstairs to change into more casual attire, I notice a shaggy-haired youth sitting in my home office.
It is Oscar's son, Dorian. He is doing either homework or inviting viruses into my computer. He could be doing both.
***
When I return, I discover that Oscar is no longer in the front room. Through the screen door, I see a gaggle of Sack residents ensconced on our front steps.
I walk outside and I'm greeted warmly by Mrs. Wonders. Sitting on our steps, various types of drink in hand, are the following: Florence and her aunt, now returned with our car from a medical appointment, and Oscar, with his arm draped affectionately around his wife, G.W.
Finally, there is Computer Doug, his distasteful duties now complete.
***
It seems that an evening barbeque is being organized. Everyone is embroiled in a discussion of the meal.
I feel a slight sense of disorientation.
Oscar equips me with drink, as I slowly sit down on the top step. Within moments, the feeling passes and I find myself in the midst of the laughter and good cheer.
This, too, is the way of The Sack.
***
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