Tomorrow you’ll be me
Fiction
Narration
16’19”
Perhaps it is me, perhaps my neighbor is at home, but does not answer, because he knows, perhaps the person calling knows, or the long shadows that were cast upon this house have made their way to the walls, and perhaps among the things a nothingness remains, perhaps today or tomorrow, someone will come - nobody comes, nobody calls, and day after day the letters and the dust, and the rain walks on the windows, but the ghosts, in the things, in the paintings, the assumptions are correct but the question remains, like a light in another part of the house, down the carpeted stairs, between the books and the games, the question remains if anybody ever really lived in this house.