At first it needed to go; that loud creaking noise in the upstairs bathroom; that hidden joist where saddened wood met human weight and the slightly mal-aligned boards and screws complained bitterly. But then, I was told it could not be fixed; not without a lot of fuss and bother.
That was that.
I chose to look at Heaven in the afternoon and watched a soaring, silent bird, gliding over the shadow of the creatures which passed unnoticed through our yard at twilight and thought better of the creaking noise. It meant someone other than myself and those moving creatures lived in and around our home.
That was that…
690 Saint Paul 