Postscript

Today marks the end of an era in our small city. This morning, Ilena and I bid adieu to Helena, our elusive and enigmatic roommate of the past three months. She had that particular quality one so often seeks in a roommate, but rarely finds: absence. After the despicable reign of our former tenant Melvin Bosh, whose shrill and wet-brained voice brought terror to our neighbors and ourselves alike, she could do no wrong. But she did one better—she spiked the windows with hot pink tulle and bird figurines, hung animal bones and abstract threaded paintings from the bare white walls, and sat peaceably on our humble porch rolling her slender spliffs and carrying on in her singular, easy fashion. Now she's on her way to Athens, Greece, where her red-clay Georgia banter will no doubt enliven the stark landscape of bone-white on blue one finds there. We will miss her, and we will hold her possessions hostage until she returns.