Thursday morning I think I awoke from what I thought was a dream/doors banging shut echoed throughout the house/the four walls devoid of shadows looked strange and naked; the outlets seemed bored without their plugs.
I knocked on every door and looked inside. Nothing!
Was it a dream?
I drank my coffee on the porch the yellow sun on my feet my face in shadow, before I even realized every stick of furniture had disappeared.
I called the police!
“Something has to be missing for two days before it’s missing,” they said.
“But what if its all on a big semi headed for North Carolina or down by the Swale River holding the asses of some homeless people drinking their muscatel, red stains all over on the arms?’‘
They left in a huff. “Homeless people are out of our jurisdiction!”
I remembered seeing the E.M.T. people. Hmmm … Maybe they were in disguise?
Shit! Then I remembered! The E.M.T.’s had visited my house at least ten days prior.
They told me I was having an anxiety attack. But I disguised my feelings. I wasn’t going to let them know the chair was a giant hand thrusting up to pull me into some abscess below the foundation of the house. What a ridiculous thought! I live on a cement slab!!
“But I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.”
A while later I said good bye despite her offer to tell me everything that happened.
“I’m perfectly happy wondering what happened. I don’t need any answers.”
I stuck out my thumb. Houses and bison sped by.
Finally, I arrived! The door opened. I stepped inside.
The driver a 30’s something red haired police officer wearing a green uniform her hair pulled back said her name was Devereaux.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
She smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Well yes but … does this have anything to do with
my missing furniture ….. ?”