
Dawn in Clarksville, Tennessee—cicadas louder than the HOA emails, a cedar bridg…
Dawn in Clarksville, Tennessee—cicadas louder than the HOA emails, a cedar bridge sweating dew like a held breath. At 7:12 a.m., the first cement truck creaked onto my private span; hazard lights blinking like impatient metronomes. At 7:40, the second rolled up, drum whispering wet concrete; every plank answered with a groan I felt in […]