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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Florida Rain Part 2 In Florida there are houses and trees and houses and trees with cars in between them and bicycles on the sidewalk. In Florida, you have to be picky about what car you buy depending on what neighborhood you live. A lot of Miamians in Kendell and Coral Gable are white, raisin and crinkly old, in their 70s and 80s, driving Mercedes Benz, Porch, and Mustang in their sun shades with genuine leather seats, tinted windows and sunroofs. They raise their noses and stare at Homestead dwellers that drive by in their near century old models of Toyotas, Hyundai and Hondas with cheap clear glass windows. Robby puts her window down as the wind run tears down her face. “It would be wrong to have a barbeque and not invite your neighbors. We stole their cable and everything, it’s the least we could do. While driving on his porch one day a Spanish neighbor caught my step dad at the gate of his house trying to remove his cable cord from an outlet when he got out of his car, with machete in hand, he said ‘I will call the police…I will sue you.’ He never did though. My step dad ran into the house breathing heavily. It’s like a brother and sister relationship, it’s cruel but hilarious. Everyone sits on this big rock in the neighborhood; it’s the rock of the neighborhood.” Robby said that the Spanish guy “even offered us to use his kiddie pool.” Marckincia Jean Narrative 06/26/19
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