Monday, March 19, 2012

How Fitting

The deputies were on his doorstep at precisely 8 AM to officially escort Byron off of the property. Although this had been his home for years, to them it was merely "the property".

He didn't suppose he could fault the two men for their polite indifference to the process. After all, they had no personal or emotional stake in the task.
It was all just a formality, anyway.

The bankers had told Byron that, unless he satisfied the arrears on the mortgage, this would be the inevitable outcome.

The process server who brought the eviction notice brought Byron something else far more important. He had brought closure. Like the broken G-string of an aging stripper, Byron's feelings of fear and uncertainty had been discarded as useless.

On the rooftop of the very bank responsible for his displacement, he surveyed the scene below. The annual street fair hadn't begun yet, but vendors and support staff bustled about.

Sighting in on his first intended victim, he smiled. How fitting it was for the bank that used agents of the state to take his home
to now play its part in ensuring the state would provide him a home for the remainder of his days.

No comments:

Post a Comment