There is a man building a house by himself. He works in the mornings, mostly, always alone, and apperently needing to be shirtless in order to feel inspired. He hasn't been at it for some weeks now and it may be that even seventy degree weather is already to cold for his bare-chested work. The house looks perfectly livable right now, what he adds to it anymore is mostly anti euclidean ugliness.
He also tends to listen to old school black and power metal while he works, Burzum, Dimmu Borgir, stuff like that. His taste in music sucks and I'm fairly confident that he's an unlikable, but maybe I'm wrong.
About a block to the north of there is an immigrant family from somewhere in the Middle East I think. They moved to the neighborhood in the summer of 11; watching their driveway being poured with great communial fascination. Then they bought a rooster and reenforced the bottom of the fence to keep him inside. The rooster is gone now. Hopefully according to plan instead of some malady that made him inedible.
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