A Rainy Night in Norcross (Blogophilia 22.7)
Set on a side street off I-85, Graves Apartments were a remnant from an earlier time. Scattered along either side of sun faded broken parking lot, the brick buildings were a legacy of a better time. The ghosts of professional singles past echoed amongst the remnants of the pool. And the tennis courts belied the history of future Yuppies having one night stands and exchanging Quaaludes and other tokens of love. A past replaced by absentee owners and undocumented residents. The peeling paint and leaking gutters spoke to the reality of quick weed deals and foreign gangs. All the tags were in black paint, with no artistry whatsoever. Just groups of cats marking their territories. Two dark women in the Laundromat quietly sorted through their clothes, while the chubby Jamaican kid practiced his skateboard tricks outside. Neon light reflected in perverse rainbows from the puddles as the small man made his way down the hill. The rain had let up, but Ma...