Remember the neighbor’s lawnmower? If not, you can read it here.
Imagine you actually went down your stairs, out the door, onto your neighbor’s front porch and you rang his bell.
Just hear me out for a second before you close this page.
The old man is home. Maybe not feeling so well, so he skipped mowing just this once so he could rest. How much will this small conversation bring to both of you?
You discover that he is actually a nice person. He loves his kids. Spends time with them whenever he can.
Just like you.
You discover the emotional attachment to the old pre-war “lawn-mowing contraption”. There was a whole history attached to it and it brings you at least a partial understanding of his thinking.
And when he asks why you are interested in his lawnmower, a flash of pain on your face reminds him that the “thing” is not so subtle when it comes to noise. You see his Adam’s apple move up and down.
There is a long silence, as two families merge into one.
“Would you like some coffee?” he says softly.
He walks toward his kitchen. Slow pace. Sometimes holding the furniture. He’s an old man. You realize how old now.
You decide to follow him. Save him to have to carry the cups back to the living room. His kitchen looks nice. Certainly a lot cleaner than yours.
He smiles, handing you a cup. His is next to the sink. He stands there facing a large, open window into the backyard.
You take your first sip. Hm. Something is strange.
“I know that taste. I know that taste very well.”
You catch a glimpse of a coffee pack, half hiding behind the coffee maker.
And as you taste it again, enjoying the rich, smooth, perfect flavor, you notice that you can hear birds singing in the trees.
(To be continued: what if it goes further than just our neighborhood?)