Drawn by the sound of non-rhythmic counting we approached a house. At least it appeared
to be a house–four sides, a peaked roof, an old stone porch. Even so the roughly cubed structure
was devoid of doors, and on further investigation presented no windows.
intoned a disembodied voice. What manner of edifice, we wondered, looked like a family
dwelling, yet gave no opportunity for entry or exit?
After circling the structure three full times, I banged my fist against the place where the front door
logically should be situated, just up the three stone steps, centered on the building’s apparent
Anterior surface. “Puzzling,” my partner ventured, his antennae twitching, when no response
resulted from my knocking. Suddenly, the house lifted and came crashing brutally down on him.
I scampered away across the sand as quickly as my six legs could carry me, thinking, “What madness?!”
Author’s note: This tale came to me at 2 a.m. I’m not sure what it means, but it insisted on being written.