[All right, fine. He'll get a house. And live here. And... try not to die, probably.
It's a work in progress, though. The house, not the not dying. Sometimes he even goes inside to look around and it's just so eerie. He feels like the world's most unwilling Goldilocks when he comes across pictures, personal belongings, things that once belonged to people. People that aren't him. Him, the intruder, wandering their livings rooms and kitchens like he's house shopping.
He can't quite bring himself to take anything with him yet either. He probably will in a couple of days - or sooner, depending - but right now it feels wrong.
So here is Carter, roaming the town.
Sometimes he stands in front of one of the houses, bouncing in the snow, not quite willing to go inside. When he finally does he ends up standing in front of a shelf or cabinet, staring at the items. Wondering who lived here. What they were like. What music they listened to. What their favorite books were. What their days looked like.
Maybe he's the ghost and somewhere, in the real world, the poor family living here is wondering what is opening and closing the doors around their home.]
ii. home sweet home
[When he finally finds a smaller place on Jackson Boulevard, he sits on the steps leading up to the small porch even though he's freezing. Now that he sort of decided, it's even worse. Like he can't go back somehow. Like going inside with this decision will make it final, will settle the deal.
Will make it too real that he now lives here.
When he sees someone pass he calls out, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder.]
Do you know if this one is taken?
[Maybe they'll say yes and he can back out and go back to his aimless wandering.]
Day 28
[All right, fine. He'll get a house. And live here. And... try not to die, probably.
It's a work in progress, though. The house, not the not dying. Sometimes he even goes inside to look around and it's just so eerie. He feels like the world's most unwilling Goldilocks when he comes across pictures, personal belongings, things that once belonged to people. People that aren't him. Him, the intruder, wandering their livings rooms and kitchens like he's house shopping.
He can't quite bring himself to take anything with him yet either. He probably will in a couple of days - or sooner, depending - but right now it feels wrong.
So here is Carter, roaming the town.
Sometimes he stands in front of one of the houses, bouncing in the snow, not quite willing to go inside. When he finally does he ends up standing in front of a shelf or cabinet, staring at the items. Wondering who lived here. What they were like. What music they listened to. What their favorite books were. What their days looked like.
Maybe he's the ghost and somewhere, in the real world, the poor family living here is wondering what is opening and closing the doors around their home.]
ii. home sweet home
[When he finally finds a smaller place on Jackson Boulevard, he sits on the steps leading up to the small porch even though he's freezing. Now that he sort of decided, it's even worse. Like he can't go back somehow. Like going inside with this decision will make it final, will settle the deal.
Will make it too real that he now lives here.
When he sees someone pass he calls out, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder.]
Do you know if this one is taken?
[Maybe they'll say yes and he can back out and go back to his aimless wandering.]