The Plot

See this little patch of land?

Last winter, that was where a bunch of families took their kids to build snow forts and snowmen. A little over a month ago, some people were out there playing catch and frisbee, either with dogs or other humans.

They aren’t building anything. They’re laying gas pipes and that’s their staging area, from what the landlord tells me. Thank goodness, because in my neck of what’s left of the woods, developers have been known to squish mid-rises and rowhouses even on median strips. I feared this would be more of the same, but then they drove some kind of beam into the ground with the scooper of the excavator. Usually with buildings they bring in these huge pile-drivers that you can hear from half a mile in every direction.

Would it be wicked of me to hope that they find human bones when they dig? Like, maybe some kind of mass burial plot for Union troops so that the Commonwealth comes in, plants a few cherry trees or a butterfly garden along the perimeter, slaps up a statue, and calls it a day?

Because then maybe the soldier who sometimes stands next to my bed at night would be at peace.