My House
I pull my car into the visitor parking slot like I was told and kill the engine. The house is some massive post colonial affair with colonnades of stone and marble. It stretches on for a distance, a long distance, and wells up all around like a physical force. Bizarre. Totally bizarre. I check my watch. Three minutes to spare; I do like being on time. It’s not like a house in the suburbs. I can’t hear the bell when I ring but it must have successfully gone off...