Where am I now? Where am I buried?

No. Why should I think you know? Why should I think you know anything at all about me, about who I am, when even I don't know?

I suppose it's because you're there. You're there alive and you noticed me, found me.

That was fast. I'm standing on the porch now, but I don't remember climbing the steps. I can see through the wall.

No, I'm looking through the picture window. That's what he always called it, a picture window. I don't know why. I had never heard of a picture window before I moved in here.

It's a cramped, shotgun apartment. If the cops had ever bothered to break down the front door they would have had a straight shot through to the back door. He would have been trying to escape out that door.

I see he cleaned and repainted the place. It's a strange, intense blue now. Like the sky in Thailand. Or like the dry winter sky here when it gets too cold to snow.

The sofa-bed I slept on is still in the front room, I see. And a crib is there now, too. The child must sleep there.

The bathroom plumbing seems to work again.

The kitchen has different appliances -- not new, just newer. The refrigerator shelves are no longer covered in blue mold. The liquefied bologna is gone. Even the piles of beer cans have vanished.

Ouch! Is that pain I feel? Can the dead feel pain? Or is it jealousy of the living? He didn't care if my food rotted. What's so special about this tenant?

*

Where is this, really? It isn't the country where I was born. It isn't where I'm from. I'm gone now. This is a cold place. Yes, I was born in a cold place, but not here. My mother was born in a warm place.

It's cool tonight on the porch. There's a full moon, a harvest moon. It's shining on this place. I think this moon can be seen from the place where I was born -- can be seen right now. I just wish I could remember where that is.

Look. I cast no shadow in the moonlight.

There's a dog in the apartment, a border collie. He sees me. I think his name is Max or Mack. The child's mother is calling a name, but I can't quite understand what she's saying. She sounds worried. She doesn't like it when she can't see the dog. Now he's trotting back toward the kitchen.

Something is very wrong here. It isn't safe.

Where did I come from? Why did I end up here? I shouldn't be here now. It's an evil place. But I was drawn here like a Canadian goose is drawn to true north. There must be a soul magnet buried near here.