I keep thinking of old songs, “Season of the Witch,” and “Our House” with the verb tense changed to past. And I keep thinking of the thing people say, “At least no one died.” Not a consolation, really. “At least” doesn’t work in this situation. People die; houses aren’t supposed to; and when it’s your house, with your life in it, the thing you’ve created as the externalization of yourselves, there’s nothing to compare it to.
