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“There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion”

-Edgar Allan Poe, “The Masque of the Red Death”

For Z King

I always loved my parents’ house I was the only one out ofhome

Michael’s horavated him, and Darowing up, but he’d needed action If trouble didn’t find hi for it

I’d wanted to be hoh, and years later, there was still a corew up in

“Ah!” A distant roar boomed as I stepped inside

I srowl She was in

Inhaling, I drew in the clean scent of fresh air and leaves, the whole house perrew in the solarium off the kitchen

I reached out, brushing the philodendron tree and bamboo palm as I walked down the hallway

While the exterior of the house blended with the English country estate-style of the other hohborhood, the inside was very different The uncluttered, clean, n suited my father’s taste Natural eleht the outside in, which helped during the long winter months indoors

But whereas the Japanese-style favored white and bright, my s, and color splashed about here and there It always felt like you alking into a cozy cave My parents were good at compromise, and I always felt safe here

Candles glowed inside their sconces on the wall, ready for Fire Night Christmas wasn’t for a few days, and while e the new yule tradition in Thunder Bay, they knew Jett and Mads loved it, so they obliged

I brought ers, feelingband

“Grandle

Peering around the corner, I leaned against the door frahter threw a pinch of flour at her, her own nose and cheeks dusted with powder, too

I droppedout behind her as she knelt on a stool and continued kneading the dough Eight years ago, I could fit those things intoo fast, and I kind of wanted time to stop

Or I wanted more kids

That was until I went over to Da out the front door ten raine Their nanny day drank, and I wasn’t even going to pretend that I didn’t understand why