It is Monday. The low cloud encourages headlights. Men in their work clothes load their trucks, load their step vans. The flashlight on the cell phone still lit as the workman calls in his report, looking for orders. Two riding mowers patrol the rest of the dead.
Despite the rain, the sprinkler runs at the house that is for sale.
I give myself permission to cut it short, and thus bowing and bowing again, I move through the complete circuit.