Final Walk Thru

The final walk-thru was on Sunday.

I took a mental snap shot of the young couple walking through their first home. A tall man with strong capable hands and a foreign swagger in his step.  A petite woman following closely behind him with quick careful steps, knotted brows and laugh lines sprinkled across her face.  Through each room they touch and tug at the things the previous owners left behind; eager to make it theirs.  Certain it will be theirs.


She imagines the big (ugly, free, yellow) floral couch filling the living room, a writing desk and cork board in the enclosed front porch, a coat hook behind the front door and shelf where he can drop his keys.  He sees beyond the wood paneled dining room walls to the tangle of wires of beyond and sketches data ports, outlet points, recess lighting ... His eye refocuses on the wall and he curses the jib board/dry-wall projects ahead.


They step outside.  She lifts her face toward the last of the summer sun.  He walks directly toward the garage, proud of its expansive size and possibility.  He plucks a walking cane left forgotten in the rafters and mimics a gimp he may one day acquire.  She swats at him for his foolish antics.  She loves his foolish antics.


On the train ride home, he makes drawings of the garden they will plant.