Is Anybody Home?

 

What makes a house a home?

Is it really just walls, rugs, a well used couch and a somewhat ok bed, is that drawer in the kitchen that we used to call a ” utility drawer ” until we come to the realization that a drawer full of sort of used  birthday candles and expired coupons for hot dog buns and fondue skewers for a fondue pot that disappeared back in 1984 wasn’t full of helpful items to anyone except  maybe one of those geniuses that can make nuclear reactors in their garage with salt, wire and lots and lots of tinfoil.

I suppose you could say those things contribute to making our houses a home.

But all of us know what makes a house a home are the things that live and die inside of it.

A mixture of humans, pets and in some cases reptiles, birds and fish can make a family.

They all have wishes and dreams and hopes and all of them can close their eyes or have them shut by someone else and Death can stand there in his dark robe, scythe in hand   and wonder why the candy dishes are full of empty candy wrappers from three Halloweens ago  and phone chargers that might still work  and NO candy.

I have always believed that if your house doesn’t have a ghost or two, if there aren’t stories about a body buried in the basement or next to the house where the garbage cans are then I am sorry for you.

You have a house, a home you have a place to stash your unread books and clothes that don’t fit anymore. It’s a place to keep the rain off of your head and has a door to shut firmly against the infamous wolf who finds it’s way to a door or two or three, so songs and stories say.

I have a home where the doors open and shut for no reason at all, I have a black cat with round yellow eyes named Darwin and a dog named Hamish Macbeth, I listen to Opera when it rains and Swing music when I’m happy.  I have a collection of books near my dining room stacked neatly  wrought iron  shelf that I was inherited from a dead woman I thought I knew well.

The spines on my books have been carefully broken over the years my books and they are all  about Voodoo, Santeria and  Embalming, Astronomy and people with adventure in their veins and darkness where their hearts used to be.

I also have  a collection coloring books that are almost completed- some have pictures of cupcakes.

I have a thing for cupcakes.

My dreams may be dark and my humor is suspect in some social circles but for all of my strangeness and quirks I have a home just like everyone who lives on my street and on streets just like it

And I haunt it every single night.

Daily Addictions Prompt: Resident

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