I'm that someone's home at the moment, not for much longer...
I'm also a radiator which is perfect for winter.
But I'm not such a good climber of hills
or squeezer through spaces
or a lap for a cat.
I'm quite good at sitting and watching and looking out windows.
Time has gone weird - my diary is beautifully empty
Everyone is waiting, it feels like the house is waiting.
In it are mysterious things, small scale things that do and don't belong to us.