5:33am
I am at home, talking to my mom and folding laundry or something to that extent. My dad isn't home. My mom is going on and on about something that my dad did to piss her off. We anticipate that dad will be home soon, and I see my soon-to-be-twenty-year old sister driving off to get breakfast or dinner, an action we know will piss off dad. It's dark outside, so it could be morning or night.
We're in our house in Littleton, so I can see a truck enter the driveway (we're in the first bedroom I moved into when we moved into the house, and I overlooked the driveway). My mom is still talking, as I am heading down the hallway, trying to tell her someone is coming to the door. The staircase is long and winding, like the staircase in the house I currently live in. I go out the front door, and pop my head around the corner of the house, calling the guy. Kelsey (my youngest sister) had warned me he was "hot."
He comes around the corner, and I get a better look at him, and he's smiling at me, and I share my sister's opinion.
"That's not the front door," I smile warmly. He follows me into the house, and now we're in another house I've never lived in. We'd just received new furniture, and he's come to inspect it because my mom called about a problem. Kelsey disappeared, because she's in pajamas. There's pamphlet-like ads strewn about the living room, and my mom has magically turned into her cordial self.
The guy comes into the living room, taking one look at the furniture, and says, "Yeah, someone's messed with it." Kelsey pokes her head in to look at him, and I am neatly trying to stack those pamphlet-things that are all over the coffee table. Just as he tries to talk to me, I wake up.
-Fin-
My youngest sister and I at Lake Willoughby in 2008, right before we moved back to the West Coast.
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