Red House

     Sometimes, in the depths of a sleepless night, when I've exhausted all conscious thoughts and virtual conversations, I see the image of a house.   The house is red, and seemingly of modest construction, with front door and windows visible from the line of sight, but is too far away to see any detail more than that.   The house is set amidst an expanse of well maintained lawn, lush in its greenness.  A long driveway, bounded on each side by white board fencing, leads to the house.  But something appears amiss.  There is not the slightest sign that anyone or anything has ever entered  that driveway.  It is covered with grass, as pristine as that surrounding the house, with not the slightest track of a vehicle or even of footsteps leading down that long road to the little red house.   I wonder if I'd seen smoke coming from the chimney.  I'll try to remember to check the next time I'm in the office.