I wasn’t aware the capacious blinds overhanging the front windowpanes are slanted just enough to allow the neighbors an explicit view inside my house. the hail of heartbeats banging against the hurricane #5 glass must’ve stopped the rein of ricochets no longer taking credit for “yard of the month”. Questions asked a n d ignored. Gossip and wonder penetrate the radiant barrier roof. whispers hanging from the blooming magnolia tree – whispers on the winding walkways They witnessed the tawny bricks stacked ever so politely in the front driveway before being bundled, projected– propagated into a perfect subway pattern meeting and greeting right angles into shelter walls but hand prints were mirrored historically into the concrete foundation – mapping an acute bibliography for a prospective future. If the window treatments were other than fingerprinted ivory white - would the pathetic shouts of mercy transcend into lyrical verses or uttered contractual versions of an expired lease with notice of eviction? When I peer through the glass front to back –the express tunnel would polarize any promise of “good” feng shui. the raging fires were too close to the waves washing the tears over the slippery floors? I didn’t want the sympathetic visitors with lustrous apple pies and prostrate sheriffs dictating arrogant orders of intimidation because “vacancy” hung on the freshly enameled red front door – implementing the exorcism for my future, my plans, my dreams, myself The concerns were unwarranted. No one asked for the unanswered prayers or faint echoes turning deadbolts or disarming security alarm sirens Hollow houses do not require supported occupancy permits on every killum beige wall - in every room. Just because I bought it doesn’t mean I have to live in it WriteInSpace.com 2016© - all rights reserved. may not be reprinted without permission.