BookLyrm

The house is almost naked. These walls— long hid by bookcases are now bare now flushed with sunlight and empty of warm shadows cast by curtains (those too are gone) the walls remain but not in the same way. Little white sticker signs mark all the taps, the doors, the water heater warning against use That copper drum was so full of boiling, glaring heat! now it is cold and drained they left a rusty stain of water when they bled it. It is not the emptiness that aches when the van leaves with the last boxes, nor the nails that jaw the letterbox closed, nor the keys that no longer fit. But posters of disbanded bands on bedroom walls di