There was an alley behind my old house.

Narrow and cluttered with trash bins, old paint cans, and crooked fences.

I walked it often.

Especially when the boys were little, pedaling, dribbling, and skipping along side me.

At night, it was quiet.

Just a few street lamps humming…and washing the street in harsh white underneath.

And glowing upstairs windows lighting up one at a time as kids take their baths and get ready for story time.