Sunday, April 6, 2008

House Guest

She sighs loudly, even in her sleep. Yoga or meditation would benefit her greatly, I’m sure. She walks around the house on the balls of her feet, creeping quietly, even though she lives quite alone.

I can sense her wandering below me as I sit beside vents in the space above her, or beside the heat duct that runs to her bedroom. I listen as she complains to her friends about the raccoons in the eaves, but she never investigates the noises.

At night, she sleeps and I slide down into the living room. I, too, walk around the house on the balls of my feet, creeping quietly. I eat only that which won’t be missed. I couldn’t resist the lone Dove ice cream bar one particular night. The next evening, I heard her open the freezer. She stood there a while, surely wondering where it went.

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