Feo's house.

Feo doesn't live there any more; he died a couple of years back.
I will never forget my first sight of him, the summer I came to live here.
He was lying outside the house, which is more or less in the exact same condition it was when he lived in it, on a mattress, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts.
There isn't that much traffic on this road, but he was sure stopping what little there was.
A little old man, sunbathing in the very spot you see that lump of dirty snow, under the signs (and the bus stop), in his underwear.

You know something? Feo rocked...

It's Friday. Have a Frank tune...