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Edwardian house that sat a bit back from

the pavement of a wide thoroughfare. He

could hear the sound of the traffic roaring

along it even in the earliest hours in the

morning when he was in bed; indeed, even

though he hadn’t been there that long, he

now felt that he might have problems

sleeping without that nearly continuous,

wiring noise buzzing through his windows.

He blundered along smiling at the very

well-groomed oak trees that ran all along

his road, it was beautiful as the sunset

shone through their autumnal, orange-

tinted leaves of the trees that now looked

relatively sparse compared to what they

had been that morning and he could feel

the fallen under his feet.

These felt as if they had all massed

together and cemented onto the pavement

as some sort of organic, artificial, wool