Dusting Off Hidden Treasures

It was the classic “last house on the street.”

It was late, and my companion and I were returning home from the far edges of our area, ready to call it a night. We walked down a long, slow bend in the road where there were very few houses. Even fewer showing lights or signs of life.

was a poor area, typical of many third world nations: Corrugated tin roofs, walls made of plywood or cinder block, some patched with plastic. The homes that had electric light had it because they had a car battery hooked up to a single bulb -that, and a television. Go figure.

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