The call button rang. I thought it was a delivery. Nobody was there. Still... I heard something hit the floor. There wasn’t a box. Just a photograph... face down. I don’t remember anyone taking that picture. I recognized everyone. Nobody recognized me. The house still leaned into the wind. The third step still answered before the fourth. Dad never looked up. The dog came running... like I’d only been gone an hour. Nobody asked my name. The dog never needed to. Home remembered itself. It just forgot my name. Home remembered itself. It just forgot my name. There was a woman in the painting. Everyone agreed she’d always been there. Nobody knew who she was. I stood there. Certain... I knew those eyes. I handed Dad the photograph. He turned it over. He looked at it for a long time. Then asked, “Why do you have this?” The dog started barking. Home remembered itself. It just forgot my name. Home remembered itself. It just forgot my name. The bell rang again. Someone opened the door. A small box. Brown paper. Addressed: Occupant They looked at me. “This one’s yours.” I reached for it. Before I touched it... I could’ve sworn I’d already heard it hit the floor. [Silence]
