Foreclosure November, 1931

"No later than December third," The voice rapped out each icy word. He stared as if he hadn't heard just what that ordinance inferred. Then something deep inside him stirred his ire, and his vision blurred. "You've got two weeks," the voice proffered. "I understand," the man concurred. Then as in theater of the absurd, His desperate plight had registered. And to his heart without a word The agony of times occurred. A crumpled, broken, lifeless bird He paid in full before the third.