A house is a woman. A place that holds people within it, as a mother does a child. I passed this house many times while she was 'alive and well', when I would drive into town. One night, she burned down. I bought a broken crystal chandelier from the family she had sheltered, when they were having a sale after the fire. I found out that, thank goodness, no one had been hurt. The chandelier is hanging outside at the entrance of my trailer. For a long time, the house stood burnt and abandoned. She spoke to me each time I drove by. Now she's once and for all been torn down. Today, one more time. she called to me ...
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