Sunday, February 7th, 2021

The mirror has been on the porch for close to a month now. It leans against a wall, across from the cardboard boxes where the cats stay at night. I imagine that they use it for grooming, checking that their whiskers are straight and each hair is perfectly in place. In the backyard, the landlord has taken down the rusted swing set. A long wooden box rests on the ground where it was. It took him about a week to build the box, cutting down long planks retrieved from the spot across the road where the community puts its trimmed branches and large trash. As I head to work, I see a wheelbarrow filled with dirt near the top of my stairs. He may use it to fill in the box for planting. A contraption in the front yard may once have been a futon frame. I think he’s turning it into a table. He hasn’t touched it in a while. The pink tarp that covers it will probably stay there until the rains end. As I head out of the gate, a kitten runs in. It has been trying to jump over it, but can’t quite get that high. It seems annoyed that it had to wait for a human. It trots down the path and onto the porch. It stops at the mirror. It may be surprised to see itself. It darts away quickly, runs down the steps, and finds a comfortable place inside the wooden box.