Maggie stands atop the doormat downed with a beautiful rich bouquet of fall time foliage, shaking. What does she expect to happen? She doesn't know these people. Knocking, she begins to tremble. It's not cold. The door opens, a woman is caught mid sentence yelling over her shoulder, "Just keep stirring" Maggie stops, "Of course, shit. I'm interrupting." thinks about running away. Off the porch, peeling out down the gravel driveway. She snaps back to present moment. Grounds herself, shooting a glance over her shoulder. Maggie stumbles lost in thought, flailing. "The front porch. It's different now." shooting a glance back to where she used to jump so high. Maggie composes herself, takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry hello. I'm Maggie" Standing on the steps of her memories. The beautiful solid, Classic Log Cabin home. With puffs of grey clean smoke shoot out the chimney shute. The woman in the doorway, even with flour strewn about her shirt and a towel over her shoulder, appears composed, calm, kind. Maggie doesn't know her, but assesses quickly, she has her shit together. Placing the towel in her back pocket that had been thrown comfortably over her shoulder. "I'm Sandy. Can I help you" Maggie begins to sob uncontrollably. Just can't seem to hold it in anymore. Sandy stands there for a moment watching this woman tremble before her. Observes, then steps thru the doorway facing Maggie, and slowly pulls the door closed. Maggie tries to stop her cries. Nose snotting. Gathers herself, ever so briefly, "It's just..." Slowing her breathing, she can't bring herself to look Sandy in her eyes. Settles rather on the North front window, and slowly closes her eyes. "I use to live here. I, actually. I was born here." Maggie buries her head into her hands. What the fuck did she expect to happen? Again that shooting impulse to bolt springs into action. Maggie wants to slide down the front hill driveway backwards on a big wheel spinning, rain boots flying. The side boarders of Maggie's head boom to herself "Get me the fuck out of here." I show up on the porch of some strangers house, unannounced. How inconsiderate. "I didn't mean to, just show up. I didn't really have a plan." To herself, " I should've had a plan." Maggie talks to herself a lot these days. Sandy takes her in. Sees this girl before her. Sandy bought the home 7 years ago, moved with her husband, who is a professor at Suny Binghamton. Thought the home was charming. Original design. They made some adjustments. Not too many, but a few. They have two children now. It makes sense to be a little confused.
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