Apr 9, 2025

08.17.21

No one called, the air had changed anyway. Something cleared its throat once, but the receptacle was not properly wired. A sock sat curled on the stair.

The latch hasn’t turned in weeks. Even the mouse avoids the hallway. The porchlight counts on one hand how often it’s been lit. The curtain never opens all the way.

I heard a crack once—not loud, but final, like a door closing in a dream you couldn’t follow.

The bird is gone. She was bored, but also afraid for her young. The beams lean inward.

Someone left a coat on the wrong hook. The sleeves have learned to hang without remembering arms.