Local traffic

Life here is uneventful, blissfully so. In the morning I do the cryptic crosswords on the front porch, engage in a bit of gardening, maybe walk along the river into town, then feed carrots to the neighbours' horses in the evening. It's a stress-free zone – no sirens or pimps yelling obscenities, just birds and crickets with the occasional distant rumble of a coal train.
On occasion, however, a drama does unfold, although it's usually comical. A while ago three cows broke free from their enclosure into the backyard of our elderly neighbour across the road – her screams had us running outside thinking she was being attacked. They stood around in our street for a while, looking bewildered, then casually trotted off, destination unknown.

I'm more used to seeing perfunctory blowjobs outside my window.