Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
It shook its wings once, then flew toward the taller Douglas firs at the end of the block, leaving the wire bouncing in the gray air.
I picked up my pen from the table and wrote three lines in my budget ledger, marking down the exact cost of the moving truck and the price of the new deadbolt I had installed on Monday afternoon.
The total was four hundred and twelve dollars, a sum that left my checking account lower than it had been in three years.
But as I closed the ledger and set it next to my mug, I knew the balance was exactly where it needed to be.
The agency campaign files were stacked neatly by the leg of the table, their manila tabs marked with the names of the three local non-profits Keith had assigned to me on Tuesday.
I had spent four hours the night before restructuring their digital ad spend, working in the small pool of yellow light from my desk lamp without the sound of a television blaring from the next room.
