fellmama

I'll confess that I like walking at night so I can see into people's houses. Just harmlessly nosy; I don't stand in their flowerbeds or bring binoculars or anything. I enjoy the little glimpses of life people are willing to display to the outside world. It's strange, though to look into places that used to belong to someone I knew. The weirdest is Steph's (in my neighborhood, anyway). I know that house top to bottom. I've known it since I was four--probably as long or longer than I've known my own. And now, I walk past, and the people inside are not Steph or Cynthia or Peter. The furniture isn't familiar. I'm sure that they don't have a copy of Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats on the shelf in the living room, and that they put the Christmas tree in a different place, and that they don't have a trampoline in the basement. Yet I could walk in and know where the bathroom is, where to duck going downstairs. Strange.