Notes.

It was like a broken voice that trailed off in past. Who knows when? And a body was created to preserve it and pounce on me in this exact moment. To Gift me an entire history that I had no interest in or use of. It was odd to know the details that I had known of this house then, even at the first going. Did I really care to know, perhaps not, and it was one of those times when I wished I had not been so sensitive. I inhabited it with a certain intimacy, an intimacy that was far from concrete or real. But was intimate nevertheless, one with an odd longing inherited as a legacy, a legacy of shared thought. Sometimes time matters less than we think it does.

This house, quite inhabits me.