A pool ladder leans against a wood fence.

An RV/caravan windshield/windscreen reflects morning clouds cleaning the sky.

People recall the good ol’ days of working for “the Eastman.”

Resources receive reciprocity receding respitely.

Water from the outside flowing into a house is rarely covered by basic homeowners insurance damage claims.

A flag for the STS-75 mission stands motionless on a shelf holding up photo albums and picture frames containing captured moments of friends/family existence.

VHS tapes stack juxtaposingly next to a DVD player.

A wound-down clock predicts the time twice a day.

A sewing machine table helps a vase of silk pansies defy gravity.

Decades-old recliners wait for occupants who may never reappear.

Two space heaters, unplugged, make impressions in carpet, unnecessary while the Northern Hemisphere tilts toward the Sun.

Rechargeable batteries rearrange electrons with the aid of solar cells, lighting the sidewalk after dusk.

An atomic clock tells the temperature, time, day and date.

Almost a century of lifetime memories hang in the air behind a set of French doors.

Fortunes flow liquidly, large groups feeding at the deepest pools.

Roofers follow insurance adjusters who followed a volley of hail.

Bank accounts drain appropriately.

What was once a $1500 job is now $9000, asphalt and metal not getting any cheaper.

The stray alley cat on a hot tin roof wanders obliviously, as usual, neither a seat of knowledge nor a pool of riches.