Specks of glue peeped out from popsicle stick walls.
I took it home, comforted, knowing hands had crafted it.
The first night I heard it.
A tiny scream.
I ignored it.
The second night, I heard it again.
Then I saw…
….a tiny me...standing inside the wooden house, screaming.
…...You weren’t still asleep?
I put the house back in the lobby, but...it's here again.
And now, a tiny you is standing there, beside me...
This isn’t funny.
It’s not meant to be...