The Little House

As I ride BART, I occasionally read, occasionally nap, and occasionally just stare out the window. Right before I reach my destination is a pair of houses, a larger house shadowing a tiny house, different from all those around them because of the marine murals covering them. A whale jumps from the second floor, waves swirling around its protruding body. The tail splashes above the entrance to its smaller sidekick. I marvel at the pair of houses. Someone took a lot of time to paint the giant whale and torrential waves.

This morning, as I waited for the whale, I was alarmed. There, in front of the houses, were several sirens belonging to local fire trucks. The tiny house was on fire.

When I passed by this afternoon, the whale tail was gone. Boards covered the remains of my marine friend. I was sad.

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