The Weight of Steel and Glass Against the Friction of a Suburban Border
CHAPTER 1: THE BORDER AT THE THRESHOLD The diesel engine of my Ford F-250 low-rumbled against the curb, sending a rhythmic vibration through the soles of my work boots. The bed was heavy with three hundred pounds of thick pine garland, commercial-grade green storage totes, and brass-rimmed lanterns meant for the neighborhood’s seasonal gala. The…