I had this nightmare last week. I wish it were just made up.
In it our house was magically shifted a block to Fourth Avenue. We were all sharing one room, sitting up in a large bed. It was night. Suddenly, from the north, an army of figures, all dressed in dark suits, came racing down the avenue jeering & screaming. I suddenly realized that the front wall of the house was missing. How had we not noticed until now? One of the crowd, a thirty-something guy, glanced in as he passed, and slowed down. He walked right in and looked around the room, with a smile of undisguised contempt. He could take whatever he wanted.
I woke up, heart pounding. Quick wall count. One, two, three, four. All there. But the wooden building felt like a house of twigs.
Postscript. Woke early up this morning to pounding next door. The shared roof coming off.
--One More Folded Sunset
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