Mi Casa

My house is your house, or so the saying goes. It is unbelievably a rich one. The saying that is. I think the house is too. Its ambiance is articially amazing. Uncontrollable to say the least. The house is calling out to you, it is saying feed me. And no one is the resisting this refusal. Come and play, the house yells out. Let us all play and party while the eaves settle. And the storm passes through. In the meantime we can see if the lightning and thunder wakes up from our tranquil peace.

I am supposed to call out to the realtors to tell them that my house is sold and is not on the market anymore. They will be happy to hear that. They've been trying to sell it forever. But that is just the prodigy in motion. Yall have been procesing this motion for awhile and have left nothing in your wake to call home. That is quite another story.

Buffering the windows and take the outfit back to the store. Even if it does fit or not. Sometimes the windows talk back to you, saying it is time to clean me, as long as you don't leave any streaks. We will all be fine in the morning, or so it goes. And sleep it will do. As long as you keep the curtains shut... Away from the nasty and dirty world around us.

The second floor was hard to find, you had to look for the stairs, even though they were not there. Sometimes they managed to appear. Sometimes they did not disappear. Either way it was hard to find and manage in this darness. The storm had passed and left rainbows and sunshine in its wake. Let us rejoice in the peace that has sprung up the stairs and back into the alley of another day gone by.

Another serial number has been filed off of the bondsman. And he still had time to spend with his family, in this second-story that he called his own home. The windows were calling out his name, making him twist in agony and retribution. Of some type of peace of mind. Will he have to come back and share these memories with the world, let us find out. The coffee was percolating on the pot and left yummy smells in its' wake.

He did not want to have to continue this job of his. It left him weak in the mind and gave him nightmares that he could not handle. At least his home was far away from the menagerie of another time and place. Let us revel in that fact. And face another day inbound. The treat was on his arm. He was not going to behave any more than he had to.

I do not like telling this story, but it has to be told. And for a price. A price that multiplies through out the ages. I was smiling all the way through it. Let us now listen to the trees moan out in pleasure as the house fades into a forgotten memory. Rotten to the core it was, no one the wiser for this lost memory. The dark will have its call-back. And we can all lose what we have not stored in our minds.

Did you guy's have a nice nap towards refreshing your bodies. Or did you just give up on another Sunday of peace. Maybe you need to listen to some tranquil music to past the time in the forgotten realm of maniacs. The house will still be standing there.