At the corner of 10957 Bellagio Road and Apt 213, 924 N.25th street at the opposite corners of 8213 West Summerdale Avenue and 115 Burr’s Lane, there’s a little unassuming two story house simple and plain.
Three steps up to the porch and at the front door there’s a mat that says ‘WELCOME’ there on the floor. Standing there thickly, a door made of wood, black oak, bronze trim, with a shiny new knob and a lock that looked like it was quite good.
And there under the mat, if you care to find, is a key made of iron, rusty with grime. If you look at the key and the lock at the door, you will see that they practically fit tout come L’Amour.
With the key in the lock twixt finger and thumb there’s a twist at the wrist and the lock is undone. There’s a slightly heard click and the door swings wide to show you the view of all that’s inside.
The welcome mat friendly bids you adieu as you cross past the doorway to the stair vestibule. Climb them you must, each of the ponderous steps, creaking and crackling taking deep breaths. Till last but not least the last step is reached and there at the top of the pinnacle peak, the hallway lays out with a red velvet sash, maroon double shag, from stringer to stash.
There at the end of the long darkened hall, laid at odd angles, is a door in the wall. Chipped, faded paint of indeterminate hue. Oh, look! There’s a knob that begs to be turned too. While holding your breath and the door just so wide with a tentative step you slip silently inside.
There in a room, more perfect square than square, sits a box on the floor, plain brown and bare. No wrappings at all, the top open but shut, just waiting for fingers to open it up. Now open it is and naught inside dwells, it beckons “Climb on in.” and sit for a spell.
Now there in a town, not far from your own, there’s a house by the street and no one’s at home but through the door and up the stairs, to a room with a box that’s plain and bare and closed very tightly, from bottom to lid, a body inside the box is hid.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
You get poetry POINTS for researching the addresses.
I've always been a jack of all trades. I've been a poet, author, social commentator, comedian, online gamer, pod cast host, and Youtuber. I've had a class A license to drive semi truck over the road. I've worked as a chef, manager and all kitchen positions in hundreds of restaurants over the years. I've traveled in Mexico, Canada and through 37 of the 50 states. I've been a volunteer firefighter in Florida, where I grew up. I've fished the waters of the Gulf of Mexico and saw the far distant coast line of Cuba before its recent opening to the west. I've married, had 4 kids, divorced, got CKD stage 6 (end stage renal failure) Survived a stroke, mild heart attack, MRSA, blood clots and now chronic heart failure. Fully disabled and home bound, the internet is my social outlet, and window on the world. I go to dialysis three times a week, I watch movies, play video games and chat with people on social media. Writing is my catharsis for a life that is now spent measuring the time I have left, less the tomorrows that may never be.