Elmwood
By Dirk Kortz

Elmwood was the kind of neighborhood where the homeowners took their garden gnomes and lawn jockeys seriously. I was a renter and didn’t pay much attention to the lawn or garden. My landlord didn’t seem to mind but he didn’t live nearby and some of the folks who did were less understanding. I had been living there for a couple of weeks when my northside neighbor, Mrs. Oswald, came over with a pound cake to welcome me to the neighborhood and, in the process, make a few indirect references to my negligence (such as noting that dandelions are “vile intruders”). My southside neighbor, Mr. Delaney, made his comments over the backyard fence; jolly encouragement that he soon realized was wasted on a man who did not understand the importance of yard ornaments, irrigation systems, and bug spray. The Bentleys, who lived across the street, pointedly ignored my wave whenever we happened to step out to pick up the morning paper at the same time.