The Host

I love living in the townhouse, in which I live. It has seven doors, which I have individually counted, and they all open up to the outside, rather than the inside, of the house. My town has many townhouses, of which mine is but one. Whenever I open one of my seven doors, I only look at these other houses. I do not like to look up, at the sky. Whenever I do I feel smaller, and run back inside lest I grow too tiny to turn the knob on the door.

My name is Hazel. How are you today?

I bought this house a long while ago. I moved in with my wife, whom I married. I forget when we married. It was so long ago. Her name was Alice, and she is very kind and sweet. I met her feeding pigeons in the park where I would take my evening walks. I walked in the evening so that I can where I am going through the light of the Moon.

I have a son. His name is Jack. I named him after my grandfather.

My father went to war, when I was ten. I know I was ten, as that was what the calendar told me. I don't have a calendar in my bedroom yet. I should get one.

I don't know where they've all gone. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You'll catch your death of cold, out there in the rain.

The dazzling, brilliant rain.

The End

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