Monday, August 14, 2006

Spider Man's Forced Entry

Moved in this morning, even though I haven’t signed the papers and the deal hasn’t closed. My reasoning, though, is sound:

1.), the place has been abandoned for three months, so I doubt anyone is going to come checking on me. And if they do, good for them, they’ll find me checking out the property, taking care of it;

2.) closure is less a legal technicality than it is something people want at the end of a relationship, or after sex, and I don’t plan on either since my realtor is my brother and having sex with him would change our relationship;

3.) in the grand scheme of things, God owns the place, not the Brooks, and I’m pretty sure He wouldn’t want a human definition of something like “ownership” to get in the way of my smooth transition from apartment to trailer.

Still, the neighbors don’t know my reasons, and they might be wondering why I was stacking garbage cans in the driveway, scratching at the aluminum siding below the bedroom window, and eventually posing in the windowsill like an unpracticed cat. It’s not the first impression I want to make here, even though the boy and girl next door apparently enjoyed the show enough to stop riding bikes and stare.

I had no key, and balancing there with the trepidatious glory of someone who refuses to play sports with balls or other accessories due to lack of grace when his body is forced to interact with objects, I didn’t see the small labyrinth of spiderwebs inside the window until I fell through it. And I didn’t know that when I stood up, covered in crackling lint, I would see more of the same: pregnant spiders hanging from the ceiling, ready to burst forth with babies, everywhere.


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