The Lost and Found of Years by Claude Lalumiere Page B

anything.
    But now she’s the one not noticing.
    Not seeing. But why not?
    Fuck. This is too weird. Plus, she’s mad at me.
    I hate it when we fight.
    This is all Jasper’s fault. Stupid fucking anthology.
    Okay. Calmer now.
    I look at the pictures again.
    Then I look at the house.
    Fuck.
    Every day, it’s a different house.
    Every day, that house changes.
    It’s not the same house from one day to the next.
    Okay. Stop reiterating. No matter how I say it, it still sounds crazy.
    One day, it’s a well-kept red-brick duplex.
    The next, it’s a triplex, with one of those famous Montreal outdoor staircases.
    And then, it becomes an ugly 1970s apartment building, with half the windows boarded up.
    And then, a gorgeous old-fashioned place with big, grey stonework.
    Then, a yuppy townhouse.
    Then, a croissanterie.
    A travel agency.
    A condo development.
    A pet shop.
    An empty lot.
    A small park with nice big trees and a couple of benches.
    A narrow renovated house with a driveway on the side, in the same style as ours.
    I look out the window again.
    Right now, it’s a barber shop.
    Can’t sleep.
    Get dressed. Go for a nighttime walk with the dog.
    He growls at me when I get him out of bed. By the time we’re outside he’s happy enough. Wagging. Running. Sniffing.
    I do not look at the house across the street.
    Breakfast. I make pancakes. Sausages. With maple syrup. Girlfriend is back. Not talking to me. But sits with me while we eat. So things not too bad.
    Tea for her. Orange juice for me.
    I don’t mention the house.
    I don’t say anything.
    We eat.
    She has to go to work.
    She almost gives me a hug.
    Stops herself.
    Then hugs me anyway.
    Okay. Things are good.
    I decide to never mention that house again.
    When I sit at my desk, I can see that house through the window.
    Today, it’s a teepee.
    Maybe I should move my office around. So I don’t see outside while I work.
    I stare out the window all the time. I try to see the house change. To witness that moment of transformation.
    Fuck.
    I always miss it.
    I go to the bathroom. I yawn and blink for a second too long. Whatever.
    I always miss it.
    Changes getting weirder. Bizarre architectures. Foreign. Or something.
    One night, I recognize it. From one of my stories. Not a house that time. But a vast, dark, deep hole in the ground, surrounded by a moat of water sparkling with green, blue, and brown light. Giant black tendrils erupt savagely from the hole in the ground, kept in check by the godly waters.
    Too weird.
    Not sleeping. Not writing.
    Fuck.
    Midnight. Can’t sleep. Girlfriend and dog curled up together, sleeping. They’re beautiful.
    Get up.
    The house looks kind of futuristic tonight.
    I’m so fucking tired.
    Peculiar architecture. All curves and unusual angles. Don’t recognize the building material. Some kind of stone, but different. Weird.
    Window slides open. Woman appears.
    Naked. At least the part of her I can see.
    Dark wavy hair to her shoulders. Light brown skin. Big eyes. Full lips. Svelte with soft curves. Full, firm, round breasts. Looks about twenty.
    She notices me looking. Staring.
    She laughs.
    I love it when girls laugh.
    She turns away for a second and gestures with her hand.
    A second woman joins her.
    They look exactly the same. Twins?
    They laugh.
    I love it when they laugh.
    They touch each other’s breasts, looking at me.
    I’m so hard I feel like a teenager.
    They gesture for me to come join them.
    On my way out I see the dog and my girlfriend on the bed. Sleeping.
    I should stay here. I love her. She loves me.
    I go outside.
    The women are still at the window.
    They’re the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. They look at me. Gesture for me come to them.
    Fuck, I’m almost creaming just thinking about them.
    I walk to the house. To the door. Strange futuristic door. Have no idea how to open it.
    While I try to figure it out, it dissolves. And I see inside.
    And the girls are there, on the floor. Naked. Looking at me with