House On The Moon
I live in a house on the moon.
The other people are far away — very far away, indeed, for I can no longer see them when I look out my window.
I pause at the blinds, but I close them anyway (I'm very afraid that they'll see me) and I walk out of my bedroom.
The staircase turns before me as I stand at the top; my skirt's hem scoots along as my feet inch forward. I take a step. Then I tip and dive down the stairs — and even though my head is aimed toward the floor, I don't flinch because I'm weightless in this house of mine and I just land. I lie there and have to remember that this is not paradise.
I'll admit, inspired by Brenda and Rebbe.