Bradley stood at the patio window, staring out at the back deck. The rain fell in a steady thrum, audible through the ceiling, and visible in the small pools on the dark-stained boards out the window.
He lifted his gaze to the neighbour’s deck. Slightly larger than his. It hadn’t been. Last year, he had his rebuilt – a necessity, what with the rotten holes you had to leap around. So this year, as soon as the last of the snow was gone, Tom started a deck expansion project. Two weeks of saws and hammering, just to have a deck a little bit bigger.
Bradley had, of course, considered expanding his deck, as well. He didn’t want that asinine Tom to beat him. But the bank stopped him, saying he had to pay off his current debts before they’d lend him anymore, which is ridiculous, because he had been a customer of theirs for years and years, and he had always paid off his credit faithfully, if slowly, the lowest possible payment each month so he could use the rest of his pay cheque for the car payments and the mortgage and expanding his collection of LPs outlining the chronological development of British rock in the U.S.
Bradley snapped himself out of envy for Tom’s deck. Or rather, he was drawn out of it by lifting his eyes. There, across the two yard, just above the deck, was an open window where Tom and not Tom’s wife were going at it like bunnies.
Bradley grinned to himself and grabbed his camera.