"Forsyth sat on the step of the parking lot office reading the
Monday morning newspaper. The same little tombstone notice had
appeared in the paper three times now, just like clockwork. He
wasn't given to reading the paper's legal notices, but a news
clipping containing a foreclosure notice on the lot had been mailed
to Harry by Fidelity Union Bank a few weeks earlier, and he'd
opened it by mistake. Since then, he'd located it in the paper and
read it for himself every week.
He was fascinated to see his brother's name in the paper amidst all
that legal jargon. It wasn't often that anything about his family
was worthy of print. The last time was his father's obituary. It
seemed that the occasions were always sad ones. But then, so was
just about everything else in the newspaper.
According to the notice, an auction of the lot would take place on
the steps of the county courthouse a week from Tuesday at nine
thirty. The public was invited to attend and submit bids. He could
go. He was a member. As a matter of fact, the public was the only
group he belonged to."
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