It appears to have been eviction day yesterday in my neighborhood. The first time I saw an eviction, I commented to my boyfriend, "Wow. Someone's getting rid of a lot of stuff." He looked at me and said, "I think they were evicted." It wasn't a concept that I was familiar with growing up in suburban Orlando.
I think that the landlords in my neighborhood are going to kicking more and more families to the curb as the neighborhood gentrifies and they can charge more for rent. The family I saw picking through their stuff the other day looked stoic, resigned. There wasn't an outcry of grief the way that I would expect, or that I would probably feel if someone kicked me out of my home.
This morning on the way to the metro there was a half empty beer bottle on one of the mattresses. This afternoon, on my way back to my apartment, everything was gone.
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