At the end of an empty street

The street light flickers, giving the end of the culdesac a slightly eery glow. The wind shivered through the trees that lined a few of the houses and gravel rasped around the street gently.
They had no side walks and the empty street was lonely and dark.
In the light of day it was a welcoming sight but the dark night encroaching on the flickering loght was enough to make her shiver under her warm sweatshirt and jeans. It was just a street now, one she had lived on for most of her life, but it didn’t feel like home anymore.
The houses were mostly the same, small cottages with ample backyards that she had palyed in throughout her childhood. They looked strange in the light but it was something else that drove home the fact that so much had changed.
It was a huge monstrosity of a house, The front door didn’t look finished even and the house seemed to slip over into the street.
The tree that had dominated the front yard waas gone, and she felt an ache deep in her.
The mailbox was gone and everything that she had grow up around was missing, replaced by some jackasses idea of a dream home.
She smirked, unkindly thinking of how his dream had become a nightmare quickly enough, and she was kinda sick. She was glad that he had to sell the house within months of building it. She was glad that he was paying in so many ways for the deception he had played with her childhood home.
The redwoods in the back had been the last straw, when he had cut them down she had been furiously sick with anger and grief.
Those trees had been  there for longer than she had lived, longer than the house had been there and now they ware gone.
She was glad that he had payed for that transgression, and was still paying.
It wasn’t like her to hold a grudge but she truly did hate that man and hoped he got what he deserved.
Looking down the street she replayed memories, and couldn’t hold back tears. She held herself together as she cried. The street wasn’t hers anymore and the house was gone, and she was so terribly sad.
She would miss this place, it had been her home for so long that she knew that would never change.
The place she was living wasn’t home yet and she doubted it ever would be.
Her sister and her husband were kind enough, but the small guesthouse was just that. A guesthouse that really didn’t fit her at all.
She wanted a home or a little apartment to call her home, with a small garden in back and maybe a small flower garden in the front. She might even get some cacti just to make the neighbors nervous.
Until then she would make do with what she had, and deal with her sisters efforts to ‘help’ her get settled, which actually unsettle her greatly.
Her sister was such a class act, she was always moving and it made her dizzy just to watch.

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