(no subject)
Three visible streetlights shone piercing beams onto the cool-wet sidewalk below Kyle. They looked like ordinary gods overlooking an ordinary world with the ordinary frigidness of rulers. The mailboxes jutted out of the earth in ominous stone rectangular prisms. To Kyle they looked as though they were intended to scare away strangers. Kyle was a stranger, and they unnerved him slightly. There were scattered trees in varying species and sizes. Someone had collected a miniature forest of small pines; Kyle didn’t know the exact kind. A few flowerbeds dotted the front lawns. Some scattered bushes, uncollected newspapers, a for-sale sign in the distance, chalk on the sidewalk depicting a child’s version of his or her father which was slowly giving way to the power of falling water.