/lit/ - Literature

A fountain spews upward near the forest canopy whose counterpart is dense lush swampy undergrowth, most of which is obscured by the garage (only half of which I can claim association to, and no car is within), and on the left of this, there is a man dallying about the entrance, what he gets out of one of those apartment-janitor (there are buckets and things, but not entirely sure what he does, besides, say, grab the trash that's holed up in these chest-benches kept near the apartment entrances) golf-carts, parked near a private-property sign that once had a rosary hung up on it, but no more.