My house has been raided.
There has been a hoarde of banshees run through, pick everything up, carry it into another room and throw it willy-nilly anywhere they pleased. They each then had three glasses of something out of my refrigerator, dumped the glasses in the sink, dirtied another sundry dish, killed a plant and left.
And just to make amends for all of their trouble, as a parting gesture – they planted a weed each.
My parents come to visit this weekend.
Somehow the house will be fit to be seen.
Maybe I will be too.