Home

We pace the familiar hallways, smiling absentmindedly. There's nowhere to go really, but why stop walking?

Our lives are neatly arranged two storey bungalows. Some have large porches. Some have a backyard overgrown with weeds. Some have beautiful flowers on the dining table, while others have papery curtains dancing in the wind. The music we play changes, evolves.

And so we grow and change. As do the paintings and vases that break all the time. A tap and bulb are changed so often you lose track, and we make our lives as we go, with new carpets and old cushions.

People walk in and some stay forever. Most walk in and soon leave.They outgrow their seat at the sofa. Their feet curled under them is no longer comfortable. The tea that was once perfect is too sweet. They've outlived their stay. Sometimes they leave silently and there's no rupture to the quiet calm of the house. Others slam the door behind them, shaking you, leaving you perturbed. The sound doesn't go for a while, the empty spot on the sofa yells out.

But eventually the ringing of the slammed door hushes and the wind-chimes are heard once more. The seat is taken by a pet, or perhaps another person walking through. But I guess that's life.