Moving Van or Hearse

 

If I imagine the view out of my window as if it were a giant open book, the first thing I would notice is the line of wild turkeys walking from the back cover to the front.  Right to left.  I expect they are on their way to some important turkey meeting and obviously wishing not to be late.  I see an illustration of my neighbor’s house across the road.  It is a pencil sketch of simple lines and sparce landscaping.  No one is home.  Over the years they have become so much more than just stick figures, and they have their own gathering of little wiener dogs, who feel compelled to announce the arrival of passing turkeys. 

The title of the book is the same name as the fancy name the builder gave to the community of houses.  Wandering Feathers.  There are occasional people walking their dogs along the road, and towards the beginning of the book I see the various cars taking people to work in the mornings.

It is only towards the end of the book that I notice no one heads off to work, for now they are all retired.  As the turning of pages there is a passing of time.  A few of the dogs didn’t make it through some chapters, yet there are those who did, and their owners and them walk much slower now past my window.

I expect I’ll not know what kind of story it is until I reach the last page.  Is it an adventure story?  Surely, I am not the main character.  At this point it remains a mystery.  I will simply take it page by page, chapter by chapter, waiting to see which type of vehicle stops out front, to take me away.