Thursday, February 4, 2010

Tea with My Neighbors

I was skyping with Steve the other night, very late, when everything else was sleepy and silent. Faintly, I heard something like the slow cracking of breaking glass. I wasn't sure where it was coming from, but a moment later, I found out. Suddenly, behind me, the tiles on my floor split apart, rifting together like the Rocky mountains, and shooting sharp plaster bits all around the room. The entire length of my living room, two rows of tiles seemed to expand and pop out of the floor, leaving a little tile mountain range in the middle of the living room, that cracks menacingly anytime anyone steps near it.

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