January 7, 2010

Homing Inn

Hurray! -I get to present a narrative in full bloom for the masses. I'll allow my mind to explode and see If I get a nice Jackson Pollock painting when I'm done... Onward!

The following is mostly fictional (except for a few minor real details)


'Homing Inn'

Traveling down the sidewalk in the old neighborhood of my childhood heading on my way to work, I noticed an ever peculiar house which I had never seen before. "hmm, weird" I thought, "this wasn't here yesterday." The new house was planted right in the place of my old one and it looked completely nothing like it. I looked around, knowing full well that if I took any more time, I'd miss my bus. Something bizarre I thought; there were no people around; the neighborhood was empty! there were no 'For Sale' signs littering the yards, and all the vehicles were parked in front of the houses. "Well where is everyone?" I murmured. The front door of this french-colonial wooden pier house was wide open. I strafed across the porch to avoid making any noise if perhaps I might have been intruding on someone's property. Clearly, I had an innate urge to investigate this house.

Peeping through the doorway, I saw the newness of all the recently placed furniture. "Did they build this house over night?" I live just three blocks away, I didn't see any lights. How had they pulled this off? I continued through the threshold into the foyer. The place was empty; no lights, no sounds, just the creaking of the settling wooden stud-frame. I turned the corner to the hall, and noticed the familiarity of the layout and mantles of the doors. "hmm," I wondered, "this reminds me of my old room at the end of the hall" I walked down the hall, opened the door to the end-room and saw something of usual stock within my head of activities. It was indeed a connected computer, brightly burning away its monitors and fan-cooled case. "Funny, they must be coming back soon to show the clients the rest of the house" I thought. I turned around and noticed the fairly tall, fairly wide bed quietly spying on me from behind my back. "Hey, wait-a-minute, this is MY bed!" "What gives? Did somebody steal all my stuff?" I ran back to the foyer to look around a bit more and make my compelling stance against my own misunderstanding of this place. I looked high and low for any kind of identification about the owner and found none. I ran to the study and began to find more evidence of privacy invasion. They had pictures! Pictures of my cousins and I on Christmas Eve over 20 years ago, when they were still 10, playing with LEGOs on the study floor. This place looked nothing like my own home, but yet for some reason was cluttered with all my old stuff. I came to realize that computer in the first room was sure enough my very own old computer I threw out years ago. Did they recover it?

I walked out of the study and past the foyer to reach the great living room, which looked almost nothing like my old living room that used to stand in the very same space. But what it did have was the very same entertainment center screwed right into the wall. None of the same appliances, but without mistake, I knew that was the very same entertainment center. I figured there must be some kind of hoax going on, so I decided I would take a sick day, and wait until maybe the owners returned this afternoon to their house. For as far as I knew, this house was clearly made up of things straight from my old home.

Ten hours into waiting, I began to get restless; "they should have been here by now," I thought. Looking around from my sitting spot, I thought about how I could probably get used to this place. After no one showed up for the next 6 hours, I decided to go ahead and sleep in, "it's a Friday, I'm sure they'll be here tomorrow." -And with that I fell into a deep sleep.

Eight hours later I woke-up quite refreshed to a bright sun-beam shining into my face. Well, to my surprise, it wasn't a sun-beam at all, but a policeman's flashlight shining into my retina. "Umm sir, are you alright?" Knowing full well that I'd probably get arrested for trespassing, I began to make plea bargains with the officers before they could say another word. "Sir," he interrupted me, "We were called out here on a citizen's watch. Said you hadn't left your home in over three weeks." "What? I was heading to work yesterday! -What are you talking about?" Well, sir, we found you unconscious this morning, and have been trying to get you to wake up all day. You've got a nasty bruise on your forehead. You're in Mercy hospital now." scratching my head and feeling the bump I responded: "You mean to tell me I've been in my home this whole time?" "The property is in your name sir."
"But I can assure you that home is NOT mine!"
"Well sir, the deed clearly says you've been living there for four years now."
"Wait, wait" I said, "I think we have a misunderstanding here."
"I'm all ears sir" The policeman quipped.
"Well, you say, I fell unconscious in my home?"
-"Yes, that's where we found you."
"Well, I am certain that that place is NOT my home; it may be my house, but certainly not my home. My home was demolished yesterday when I forgot what happened there."


Think about it :P
-Thanks for reading.

2 comments:

  1. so let me get this straight eric was this guy living in the house the whole time and people just kept their normal activies here or is he just dreaming because he was in a coma

    ReplyDelete
  2. Interesting narrative describing the changing of one house physically, yet key artifacts remained. Thus, the narrator loses the identity of his home in some bizarre delusional event. Interesting...

    ReplyDelete