How do I explain a home to you, Bean? We fill them with dirt and dust and dishes and cat hair. Spend all our time looking on big and small screens at other people’s homes, wishing they were ours. Drive to places like IKEA in hopes that our homes will look more like the homes on our screens. It’s the only place in the world that is just yours (but it’s not yours, and is either owned by a bank or a landlord, and even then belongs mostly to the elements, that chip away at it night after night, a shingle, a window screen, until you’re forced to admit that you have absolutely no say at all).
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