Everyday as a part of my job, I am a cog in the wheel of someone's misery or someones dream come true. Their home. All day every day sets of foreclosure papers arrive in our office. Their order is always the same. A complaint to foreclose, a power of attorney, the actual entry or as we call a "possession" and then the actual foreclosure deed. That's the point in which you officially are homeless. And everyday peons like me are the little cogs that power these monsters. Then on the other hand there are the documents that are happier. The first home. The deed, the mortgage, the homestead. Every sheath of paper another part of a promise, a hope, an obligation. Two people. Hopeful and happy. How many of those couples that I seen beaming and smiling ended up on the other end? What's it like when the sheriff comes to your door and says you have to leave? What does that knock sound like? How do you get there? Why can't they find a way out? Are they sick? Did someone die? Did they lose their job? Are they divorced? What?

Mot the Blogger