What a tension
Lena looks out the window. She wonders what the men in the park are doing. Every day they come on a white bus and go to work behind the closed fences. Her husband John looks at her and says, “Here in the map it says that in a week there's a party in the park against this. The mayor is going to invite all the neighborhood residents to come. There will be a band, 'Jo and the Shiaggies'.” Lena looks at him and says, “That's fun, but what are these men doing?” “There is nothing about that, that is strange, but yes we have to wait.” Lena looks at him says, “I'm not waiting for that and look like that. I'll take the dog, but first a cup of coffee. What do you want to drink?” “Do me coffee too, but why do you have to know what's behind the fence?” Lena looks at him and grabs his cup. “Why, I'm just novelty that's okay.” John looks at her but doesn't say anything.
Half an hour later, Lena put on her coat and boots. “Ella, let's go for a walk.” Ella is happy and Lena puts her leash on the collar. She puts the door on and Ella walks out. When she walks to the side of the fence, she'll see a car with a guard. She walks up to the guard and asks, “How are you, sir, may I ask you, what happens behind the fence?” The guard laughs and says, “You can ask me that, but I can't tell you. You will have to wait until it is ready.” Lena looks disappointed and says, “Okay, nice day.
“Come, Ella this gentleman doesn't want to be nice.” The guard laughs again and says, “Lady, I can't tell you anything but it will be very beautiful and the whole neighborhood will enjoy it.” Lena smiles back, “Aaa, now I'm even more curious but I just have to be patient.”
Time flies and then finally. The park is ready the park is opened by the mayor and the fences open. There are three lantern poles with bins around them. It's an invention when you throw dog poop in the bins, the lantern poles stay on. Next to that there is a kind of tree with in the branches solar panels a wifi pole. Everyone claps hard when they see it because that's luxury.
