House.

It’s 6:30 and still pretty dark. 

Out my front window I can see two semi trucks.  They are the front of a caravan of five — maybe six, I’m still not sure how the roof is going to be put on.  The first two trucks are each bearing half of the first floor — the left half and the right half, so to speak. 

The pieces have siding on them, except in some places where you can see printing:  Tyvek House Wrap.  The wooden porch, with shingled roof, is already built and attached, in halves, to the front of each piece.  Over the top of each is stretched a blue tarpaulin, or perhaps it’s just plastic sheeting.  The outlines of roofing shingles on the porch are visible through the tarp. 

Three men in winter coats and hats are talking in the street.  I think they are the truck drivers.  One of them paced off steps at the curb, deciding if there is enough room for… another truck?  The crane that will lift the house pieces in place?

A neighbor walked her dog past.  She was cradling a young child, wrapped in a blanket, on her shoulder.  She walked away with turned head, staring back for a long time, pulled by the dog on its leash.