Already H could feel the leather article and its waterlogged form dripping with cold rainwater as it started to pool in what would soon be a sizable puddle. Next came the shoes, high-heeled and uncomfortable, tumbled to his floor followed by the tired mumbles of a child. “Mama? Papa? Why did we have to leave? Where are we?” The Daughter quired, her voice sounding young and as clear as iced sweet tea being poured from a gallon glass water pitcher. At that, the cane fell with a clunk. The owner, Papa, dropped to his knees as a pair of butter-smooth warm hands pressed against the ground of H in search of his walking device; both he and Mama had gone silent. Tension gripped the air with the parents silently questioning whether they should tell their daughter the truth.
Welcome Home
Pressure to the front door woke him up, roof shingles quivering as H opened the door. The guests' bangs came to a halt with it. Footwear, a set of two, rushed into his fully furnished lobby; the chandelier stayed unlit despite his urges to turn it on. It is a shame I can't see what my guests look like. That issue was semi-resolved. As if cued, a t-shirt wetly slapped onto his polished hardwood floor a pair of panting short breaths echoed in the sleeping rooms and halls; the guests were making themselves at home. In the rudest way possible I might add but it can't be helped. I guess.
Already H could feel the leather article and its waterlogged form dripping with cold rainwater as it started to pool in what would soon be a sizable puddle. Next came the shoes, high-heeled and uncomfortable, tumbled to his floor followed by the tired mumbles of a child. “Mama? Papa? Why did we have to leave? Where are we?” The Daughter quired, her voice sounding young and as clear as iced sweet tea being poured from a gallon glass water pitcher. At that, the cane fell with a clunk. The owner, Papa, dropped to his knees as a pair of butter-smooth warm hands pressed against the ground of H in search of his walking device; both he and Mama had gone silent. Tension gripped the air with the parents silently questioning whether they should tell their daughter the truth.
Unknown to all human parties though, H, the house was coming to his own decision. Flicking up his Roman shutters H took a quick look through his windows -the eyeish things he had to see to the world beyond him- outside it was storming hard with a torrent of water loudly splashing against the muddy dirt and wet concrete. There were no other buildings, shops, or cars anyway around H. This emptiness had only aided in the loneliness he and the others had felt over the years. If they came all this way just to get away from whatever is going on they must be desperate. Focusing on his guests, H wished he could really see them so he could get a better judgment of their characters.
Well, they do have a child, they can't be so bad if they have formed some kind of family. Plus, a guest is a guest who am I to cast doubt when this could be our last chance? The doors, each one inside of H, unbolted at his will and opened ever so slightly. “We….We’ll tell you in the morning, shooting star, let's just get to bed.” The mother finally stated, her voice thick with mucus. With that, she allowed her bag, a suitcase, to thud against H. The Mama, Papa, and Daughter all began to explore the dwelling. Wordlessly H, the house, looked at the fire in the family suite burning stronger and brighter than it ever had.
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