On a recent afternoon I went zigzagging through the Northeast neighborhood, darting through Keney Park, along old cemeteries, past a roti joint and Scotts’ Jamaican Bakery, and down a super quiet street where I was thinking of moving to. The only person outside was an elderly man, working through his aches and pains to keep his lawn mowed.
This home is located near the Windsor line, right next to Keney Park, and by right next to, I mean you walk across the street and you are there.
