UNWELCOME GUESTS The Narcissist Cookbook

*Skype call tone*
*Skype answer tone*

[Spoken]
I don't know if you'll remember this
This was years ago, back when you were in
New England, for the summer
Clearing out your dad's place after he died

We were talking one night
Over Skype
I was in Madison, if I remember right
You were
On your childhood bed in your childhood room
Propped up by dusty stuffed toys
Taking these long, meditative hits from your dad's old pipe

And during these lulls in conversation
Whisps of pixelated, low bit-rate jazz would
Waft in from the kitchen
Where his records were kept
In permanent rotation

You told me
That for a while now
Whenever the sun went down, you'd taken to keeping the place as dark and familiar and welcoming as you could
Drifting from room to room by candlelight
Peering through the hallway mirror into the shadows over your reflection's shoulder
Hoping
To be haunted