easily rewrite.
Day seven arrived before sunrise.
I stood on the porch while the street remained quiet.
Behind me, the house was exactly as it should be.
Clean.
Silent.
Mine.
On the lawn were six black garbage bags.
Neat.
Tight.
Sealed.
I hadn’t thrown or broken anything.
Clothes.
Shoes.
Personal items.
Everything handled better than they had handled mine.
Two military police officers waited beside the driveway along with a county sheriff.
He checked his watch.
“Any minute now,” he said.
Ten minutes later, Richard’s car pulled into the driveway.
