The house we call home

This is home for six months: our block, our house, and our house layout. The house is quite tight, long, and narrow.
It's great being on the end because we have a more spacious feel than if we were sandwiched somewhere in-between. The open space to the left is our neighbor's yard, not ours. Ours is all in back and is only accessible from inside the house. We can get there from the kitchen and from the lounge. If you look to the right of our block, this is where the train goes by. It's amazing how many houses back right up to the train; that's what happens when you have a great transport-by-train system; several residents get to live with the trains.
We have a strangely quiet neighborhood. We are out-numbered with our white skin, being that the majority of our neighbors have black skin. I do wonder where my east neighbor is from. Her cooking is incredibly fragrant. I'd invite myself over, but the folks here are quite "to themselves". If we see someone with white skin walking by, we all assume they're lost.
Maybe they're all in a relocation program. From our second story, we see lots of children's toys in the yards, but no children. We see clothes-lines, but no one out hanging anything. We see gardens, but no one tending to them. I like it quiet, but I like seeing life happening too!