A lovely vignette. My neighbours are Greek and hate my trees and vines. They chop away at them when they see our car is gone from the driveway. They reach over the fence and lob four-foot branches off my tree and throw them into my yard. Sometimes they swear at us when we're in the garden, telling everyone within earshot that we have smelled up the neighbourhood since we moved in (thirty-some years ago). They're elderly and have forgotten the days when we shared wine and Christmas cookies and plant cuttings. The people on the other side are fine and lovely.
Robert Paul wrote:
Neighbors The Khmer children in the next yard are watering tomatoes; a tiny woman sits on the back steps watching, cleaning a black K-54 Tokarev replica with a pale blue cloth. 'It is for years in the family,'' she says. 'My ta carried it on the outskirts of Phnom Penh, which he was too enlightened to enter at the time, the time of the battle with the yuon, who brought such happiness to the land of the Great Ibis.' The children spray her with the hose as if by accident. Everyone screams with delight. Robert Paul
