My street is in the grip of a crime wave. Three homes were burglarized this week, and the homes vandalized. Two were broken into yesterday. Stuff was stolen, drawers rifled and windows broken. The burglars left potato chip crumbs sprinkled everywhere and a slab of bacon smoking in the oven and left the oven on. In the other house they drained the water bottles in the fridge and refilled them with liquor. It is very disturbing, especially since Dianne’s truck was vandalized last week too. For the first time in seven years of residency on Chalan Ayuyu, I am locking my doors and windows. This nagging anxiety dwells in the back of my brain now, the first thought that crosses my mind when I wake up. “Was my car fucked up overnight? Did anything else happen while I was asleep?” It seems like the work of delinquent kids trying to make the leap from misdemeanors to felony terrorizing.