Today I went back to my old house. I enter and I run to its terrazzo staircase. I chipped my first pair of tooth there from walking funny, made sure my brother doesn’t follow my footsteps. I never shook that habit but I think he finds a way to follow me anyways?
Then I lean towards the door and I find there’s an half-empty shoe rack in the way. Someone new lives here, they’ve left for time being. The place I remember of when I think of a sunny Sunday morning and the smell of family from at its rawest. I won’t barge into the scent they make for theirselves so I excuse myself to the staircase back again.
I sit there for hours to wait for the loving voices I used to hear when my face was the beach shore, wet from salty waters. I couldn’t hear them anymore, I did although hear the tutting of the lizards as usual, I wonder what they disapprove of today.