Single White Farmhouse

by Heather Shaw

The house consented to the wiring, and as soon as it was done she explored it carefully, like you or I would poke at a new tooth filling. Wasn’t long before any unused terminal would be flashing from her zooms around the internet. New bookmarks were always appearing in the browser files — architecture sites, construction sites, even some redecorating, Better Homes and Gardens-type sites were piling up in the history. Dad was disgusted by this — called it “house porn,” which made me and my brother giggle.