This Place Belongs to You

by Treehouse Editors

a brief encounter by Rachel Bondurant

I wrote:

Wanted: Someone to fill the empty space the one before has left behind.

When they came, I showed each one the room that could be theirs where you only painted half of Paris. I said:

“I can get someone to finish that or paint over it if there’s somewhere else you’d like to see.”

I stood with each of them in the doorway of the hall bathroom where we sat on the floor all night in those glitter-spangled wigs. I ignored their questions about the Centurion helmet propped on the back of the toilet. I said:

“This bathroom is kind of small, but it has everything you need.”

In the kitchen, they opened cabinets and commented on the age of the appliances. They asked about the dented toaster. I said:

“It functions; it only looks broken.”

In the living room they stood to leave with mumbled apologies and offers to let me know when they made a decision. One said it just felt like something was missing. I stood in front of the photo of me in the white dress, you asking me to dance. I said:

“I know exactly what you mean.”