My Life in Argentina and Beyond

Friday, August 28, 2009: The soft glow of the yellow light was on the kitchen table. The woman watching TV just before she had to leave the house she had been cleaning all afternoon. This is a house, she thought to herself. It looks, feels and is a real house. Why can't I have something like this again? And then, she remembered why: the mortgage fraud/foreclosure experience in GA took away my savings and the gumption I used to have. How can I fight and keep fighting when everything is a great big NO? How can I possibly get anywhere when there is that obstacle, this other obstacle to overcome? Reluctantly, the woman took the heavy bags in her hand and closed the door. She walked with sadness in her heart to the subway stop. One more coming, one more going back. Always going back. I want to be used to these small, tiny trips back and forth, but I am not, she thought. I will never get used to them.