Wylhil 1.5: Inhabited House

Inhabited House

Life was busy and it was only much later that I decided to go back to the mobile.
“Take off your shoes!” I whisper-screamed at K.
The Barrens had changed, the gravel strip was gone and in its place was a green drain ordered with development housing for a tentatively settling neighborhood. The mobile was totally different, it had a second story and a garage tacked along side. But the key still worked. It was so strange to be back in the once wild area where we had had complete free range, and find it transformed into a quaint suburban neigborhood. It felt unreal, like a dream, so we just opened the door and wandered into the house.
“I’m not takin off my damn shoes” He was delirious with laughter
It was the middle of the day and it was still dark inside because all the blinds were drawn.
“They are covered in mud.”
We had to walk through the drainage ditch to get over the new fence.
“This is all new carpeting, this place has never been touched.”
There was brand new packing on all the furnishings and there were transparent films still on the window screens. We had an unspoken agreement that we would have to check it out.
“It’s the exact same mobile, and the key still works? That’s a sign, right?”
“Are you sure there’s noone here?”
“C’mon, lets go in.” I stood holding my shoes in my hand with a maniacal grin and tiptoed over the brand new carpet in my socks.

A preliminary search showed how different the place was from the original octoganal cubicle. There was a whole upstairs, a second octagonal divided into bedrooms and deck. I walked upstairs and to the master bedroom on one side. In a sliding closet, there was a line of a brand new, in the plastic shirts and suit jackets in dryclean bags. There was a sliding door with a large back balcony and veranda.
Then I heard the sound of keys and the back door in on the kitchen opening. I imagined a woman with an armful of groceries managing the lock and shouldering in lightly with her handbag in her teeth.
“Go! Go!” I was running silently down the staircase towards K who was standing in the fashionably modern styled standing room. He was beside an elegant legged table where you could deposit your mail and keys and days belongings and other useless crap you pick up in a day. And, of course, K was nonchalantly leafing through a few envelopes that had been deposited on said table, from which he guiltily looked up at me to see what I was panicking about.
“Go,” I said, and mimed this action, three more times, “Put on your shoes” I was struggling trying not to laugh, and putting on my shoes, which somehow I had mixed with others that were on the mat beside the door. “Shes coming in through the back.”
K hoofed it past in his size boat footwear, which I now notice he had declined to remove, leaving a thick foam of brown depressions and thick chunks of sand and gravel, in the new carpet.

We bolted out the front door and I had a momentary panic about whether to try to lock it or not on the way out. I just close it and left it unlocked and rand to join them back along the barely scuffed dry-crete and cooling new asphalt.
I often think about that mobile, and the recording we watched with the couple who used to live inside the mobile, and what it was that they had been tracking through the sky. Did it touch down when the countdown hit zero?

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