Last november I have moved to a different part of town to move in with my husband and give our marriage a second chance.
I was not sad at all to leave my old neighbourhood as too much drama had taken place there over the last two decades. In the time we lived there there had been drug abuse, terminal illnesses, broken relationships, suicides and murders among the people living on our street. Writing this it looks like a real bad place but it is a decent part of town with average families. I have had the feeling that something must be wrong with the spot itself for a while and the relief I felt once moved away confirmed this for me. I haven’t been able to find enough information to be sure but this is a bit of land that used to be outside the city-walls and could well have been a place where either a plague-house stood or worse a location where people were hanged. I do believe it is possible such strong emotions connected with death and illness can linger and stick to a location, disturbing the present.
In the new house there is nothing sinister, it’s just a lovely small place from the fifties and a big garden at the back in a quiet street.
The only thing we miss sometimes is the park I used to go to to walk the dogs. Although we are still on the edge of town there is not much opportunity to walk in a ‘ natural environment ‘ as we are surrounded by the town centre and shops, the railroad and the freeway.
This is as natural as it gets:
The freeway to the left, the road into town straight ahead and our neighbourhood to the right and behind me the railroad tracks.
This is how far I can walk now, although I have to rest for a while on a bench near those houses both ways, but I hope to get better and get beyond the bend in the road that leads away from town in time.
I take Binti with me when I go here and she has a great time sniffing around in the grass, the wind in her hair.