My plan was to meet some friends under the old bridge to draw graffiti on the walls. On the way there I saw the most beautiful house.
The garden had the freshest, deep, black mulch you would have ever seen. There were fresh, bright red roses with the tags from the nursery still on them. There were three little, thin, oak trees with wire supports scattered amongst the green, checkered, looking yard with dirt coming up from the cracks in the grass.
The sidewalk had some orange barriers blocking anyone from walking on it, it was clean accept for the the dirt from the yard scattered around it.
The porch had no furniture on it and the paint didn't have any scratches or marks in it.
The windows were extremely clean with nothing on them but the bar code from manufacturer. The roof was a beautiful orange tile roof with no hail or rain marks. The house had fresh hazelnut colored paint you could still smell.
And then I noticed the paint can in my hand...
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