Green House Road

Day by day, passing that sign piqued my interest. Curiosity grew stronger . . . had to check it out. I drove down Green House Road. The gravel spread on asphalt dinged a symphony underneath. I drove slowly, looking . . . searching for the green house. I saw pines, cedars, elm trees and firewood, ricked and tarped beside a vacant lot. Old cars were hidden behind an eight foot picket fence. Lettered signs read: Private - KEEP OUT DEAD END - No Outlet I did not drive down the side road, marked by 15 mailboxes. Swing sets and metal awnings adorned white houses. But no green house.