Uxbridge Front Garden

A narrow private garden immediately outside the Uxbridge home, hemmed by the house's stoop and a ruined yard. The plot holds overturned pots, scraggly hedges, and a concealed snare Kevin set to catch a local critter — a small loop of wire hidden beneath browned leaves. The space smells faintly of damp earth and old tea; birds are absent. Domestic ritual and quiet defiance concentrate here: a trivial trap becomes an elegy for lost normalcy, grief made physical at the edge of a stubborn household.