Another one up for sale, daddy. That's the fifth one this week. When are we going to lose ours? Huh, daddy?
Alex pulled back the smoke stained curtain a little farther to peek out at the trailer across the street. She knew what this meant. First came the sign, then came the moving truck and finally it was just an empty shell of old memories.
“23, 56, 113, 54 and now number 89” she whispered to herself. She had been keeping track in a notebook hidden underneath her pillow. Her little feet and skinny ankles hung out from the bottom of her pink nightgown. Her scrawny arms clutched the curtains, pulling herself up to reach the living room window. Her hair still snarled from sleep.
“Get out of that window, Alex. Don't let them catch you staring like that.”
The girl turned away from the window. Her father was folded in a chair that had already molded to his body.
“When is it our turn Daddy?”
The girl turned back to the window. She pushed away the curtains and repositioned her weight to get the best view. A big red truck was parked in the driveway and the lawn was a funny color between green and brown.
It had been two weeks since her daddy left early in the morning for work. Instead he stayed home in front of the television. Sometimes he even cried. She pretended not to see.
The GE factory shut down and with it half the city lost their jobs. Schenectady was slowly becoming a ghost town.