After watching too much TV, the little girl
is convinced the house is haunted, every
creaking step or a door finally loosening
its metal clasp to give way to light, it
keeps hidden on the other side a new
specter with a new name. We have a family
of them now, which used to scare her,
but now only amuses her. Made-up stories
about who died first and who must be
fighting depending on what noises
crescendo before bedtime. And this is cute,
I guess, as she says bye to them as we
leave for school in the morning and I
arrive at work later, making enough noise
to barely be noticed and my colleagues often
speak about me as if I were conjured.