house on the corner

He hides everything in boxes stacked along the inside walls of the garage
and the rafters.There are no windows. Sometimes there are noises, banging. The yard has a chain-link fence, and his two large dogs pace a mud path into what was once grass. He mutters. isn't one for talk. Doesn't have a wife, works alone. Waits for the cold. Waits for night, his thick fingers uncoiling wire, reviewing plans, considering space, adds a new body to his collection. Watches cars stop from every direction, in a blaze of Christmas lights: Peace, Love, Hope, and his new Santa waving.