Property Lines by Gregory T. Janetka

Tonight, like every other night, she exits by the side door, places the remains of her dinner on the step for the homeless cats, locks the door, puts her keys in her pocket, double checks the door, double checks her pocket, and sets out on a walk. At the end of the driveway she turns back, worried a raccoon or opossum might get to the food first, but, well, they’re hungry too. We’re all hungry. Pulling her hair into a haphazard ponytail, she continues on.

The streets are quiet as the early autumn sun melts over the tree line. A rhythmic thumping gains in volume then recedes as a lone jogger passes behind her. At this first human sound she grabs up the ends of her oversized gray sweater and wraps them around her slim body. The white noise of traffic floats by as cries of indignation echo from a fenced-in backyard where invisible children play a game whose rules are still very much up for debate. Once out of earshot she digs her balled fists deep into her pockets and freezes.

The pressure begins in her chest, pushing against her rib cage, building until it spills over into her legs and arms. Her head whirls as her erratic breathing fills her ears. Hundred-year-old brick bungalows watch her, judge her, dismiss her, turning away to busy themselves with memories of how life flourished for decades on these now dusty front stoops. To her deep-set eyes they’re nothing more than movie backdrops, false fronts. Their lives, loves, deaths, hates, furies, joys, and passions gone—if there ever were any. Cold flashes of TV, computer, and phone screens light up each house, while phonograph records and yellowed photographs sit in trash bags, waiting to be redistributed if they’re ever remembered.

Pulling the ends of her sweater tighter and tighter until the pressure subsides, she walks home, uncertain of where she has been, uncertain of where she will go, but with a grasping hope that the unending, unchanging prose of life might someday fill her heart again.

# # #

Gregory T. Janetka is a writer from Chicago who currently lives in San Diego. His work has been featured in Foliate Oak, Glass Mountain, Gravel, Heartwood, and other publications. He is currently looking for representation for his first novel and novella. More of his writings can be found at gregorytjanetka.com.

Photo: Jamie Street

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