What can YOU say in six sentences?
After a lengthy illness, her husband left her well-to-do and ready for some merry-widow fun. At 76, Mrs. Strong is straight of spine, firm of resolve and tightly coiffed in a halo of spun sugar.
Summers, she’s at her cottage on Lake Martin, but when she is at home, she sits by her bay window with a notepad. She watches the comings and the goings -- especially those of black men who have no lawful reason to be on this street -- and she has 911 on speed dial.
She jots the tag numbers of suspicious-looking older trucks as well as the running shoe brands of strolling Negroes, and she has helpfully warned that our flat-screen TV is visible through our window at night, meaning either that we're inviting a burglar or that she knows our permissive viewing tastes.
At night, I walk the dog – both of us barefoot – across her perfect zoysia lawn, while she suspects -- but cannot prove -- I am the one who heisted her McCain/Palin yard signs back in 2008.