My human’s story. She tells me she’s having problems logging in as herself to respond to folks who are posting on our beloved Ape’s site, so she has asked that I respond to all posters for her. I guess I can do that.
Who Lives Here?
Image from Pixabay, Title: Broken
Who lives here? Everywhere I look, I see boxes. Boxes piled one on the other, against every wall. Boxes delivered but never opened. Things bought but never used. Magazines and mail, unopened, sit in unsteady piles on the coffee table, alongside odds and ends that also did not belong there, but which had no choice but to make that table their home. On every chair sit empty food containers and soda cans … guests who have long since outworn their welcome.
Who lives here? I wondered, as my teary eyes took in the disarray, as my feet wandered cautiously through the cluttered rooms. Pain ripped my heart. I thought I knew who lived here. I did know the name. I even knew the face. But I didn’t know … this.
Her home is full of things old and new…
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