My House is a Very Very Very Fine House
By Steve Hofstetter
As I walk through the streets, I'm overcome by a feeling of joy. I stop and look around; everything is perfect. I see a poorly dressed fellow and a newspaper vendor arguing. It doesn't make any difference. I see a car collision, with three people apparently injured. Oh well, I think. They should have been more careful. I slowly approach the door of my building, waving hello to my doorman. As I pass by the burgundy peasant, I inquire about the score of the Giants game. They lost, but it's ok, I don't mind, never really cared much for football anyway. By now I'm approaching my door. As I slowly turn the key, I notice something odd, a strange feeling washing over me. I pay no attention to it. After all, life is good. It's to late anyway, I've already opened the door.
"Where the hell have you been? I've been waiting for you for three hours! How dare you arrive this late? This is a major crisis!"
"Mom, I'm only thirty seconds late, and besides, it's not a crisis, it's a temporary set back, and I'm here, so it's over."
From out of the horn rimmed glasses comes more mindless prattle. "Don't you dare take that tone with me. I am your mother!"
I'm trying not to look at her, so I stare at the file cabinet that is now obstructing the way into the living room. Yesterday it was another file cabinet, but from what I can see, that's now in the kitchen. "Don't remind me."
"That's it! You march straight to your room, and don't come out till after dinner."
From around the hallway corner I hear my sisters voice.
"Mom, we ate half an hour ago."
"Don't you talk back to me! You go to your room, too."
"I'm in my room, mom!"
"See, At least your sister listens to me."
With that I did go to my room, since I was headed in that direction anyway. Unfortunately, my brother and his girlfriend beat me to it by about an hour. I was just in time to see them jump to separate corners of the green plush carpeting, and my brother pick up a book.
"Oh, your home", he says.
Yeah, like he's really been reading that upside down T.V. guide. Screw it. I turn toward the window and look out on the vast wasteland that is New York City. I see the same two guys as before, arguing. "Just what I need", I thought, "more noise." Like my sister blasting Lisa Loeb isn't enough to wake the dead, the city feels it should make 'em wretch, too. Now, however, the bum pulls out a gun, takes the vendor's money and runs. I hate this city. My glance shifts over to across the street. I see the same car accident again, except this time, I see three dead bodies being carted off. How could I miss all of this?
Just then, my brother pipes in to wake me from my two minute silence. "By the way, the Giants lost."
Shit. I had $20 on that game. My thoughts are interrupted by a shrill voice coming from the other room.
"Get these baseball cards off the floor!"
"SHUT-UP! ALL OF YOU SHUT-UP! I couldn't take it anymore. As my bedroom window shattered around me; as I felt more pain than I have ever felt before; as I hurtled down toward my pavement death, I looked around, smiled, and felt overwhelmingly happy. It was over. I was outside again.