Raccoon City

He lay awake nights, afraid of the new neighborhood. Afraid of his new house and its hostile windows. There were far too many houses glowing on the hillside, with an unbearable inky darkness connecting the yards. Separating his hillside of stark raccoon eyed homes from the east hill was a frightening throughway arterial, where the fancy cars as well as beaters raced their way to more vital parts of the city. He missed the old neighborhood nestled between two dense commercial districts. Living in the woods is scary, and it always has been since childhood. There are bars here, and faces to get to know. They are a hike away. There are no familiar TV shows tonight. There are just branches outside the windows and raccoon eyes in the black. There are no comforting neon or internally lit signs from any sightline. He reminds himself about being a grown man. He shuts his eyes and puts the dread to bed.