My House

I met my house after an awkward get together with a house with mold all over all the walls. She was a fixer-upper. I saw her in a different light, I saw what she could have been, but I also saw the expense and the work and the time. We went to the next appointment, my realtor and I. People were living in my house, which made a nice impression; it felt homey. They had a son who played drums in a half room with a slant ceiling and video games in a nook. The mom showed me a trick to light the gas stove top burners with a lighter. She was being kind, or that was her clever way of making the house feel like it was already mine; it never occurred to me that the stove wasn’t functioning properly. I stopped searching. Several months later, after the owners paid off all the liens they had on the property, I moved in.

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