Five hours of sleep. I rub my eyes, head out front, and bend down to extract my rolled up copy pf The Washington Post from beneath an azzalea bush. I never know when I’m going to find the thing; whoever pitches it never got post T-Ball. “Good morning!Beautiful day in the neighborhood.” It’s Yasmin Siegel, my eightysomething neighbor from across the street, with her black Lab, Cookie. “I guess.”Islide the paper out from its transparent plastic sleeve. “Seriously, Alex, a day like this in Washington, D.C.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “It’s a gift. End of May” You can get some real stinkers.“ She points her finger at me. “You enjoy it, you and those boys.” “I was hoping for rain.” “I tell her, looking up at the cloudless blue sky. “Right,” Yasmin chuckles. [download]
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