You're studying your tiger drawing on your way to the living room, deciding whether to color the stripes green or magenta, when you stumble over a box sealed with packing tape, and almost knock over your sister Louise. The box shouldn't be there, and neither should she, but there she is, crouching in front of the cat carrier, baiting it with a slice of ham.
Then the drawing is forgotten, the scene before you all too real: Mom and Dad maneuvering the loveseat through the doorway, family photos replaced by empty wall. Standing, you reach up to touch one of the nail holes. You wonder if this house as sorry to see you go as you are to leave it.
As if in answer, the air seems to shimmer with memories demanding to be acknowledged, facets and possibilities gone unexplored.
You steal up to your sanctuary. There's still time for one last adventure...
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