A house. A home with one shut eye. The other spies out, keeping in contact with the world. Making sure the Coriolis Effect's still working and that life goes on. A home keeping house. Keeping everything in check while the owners sign off; disconnect. They have a right, right? It's their home acting as house--engaging with the world, its people its elements. Every weight rests on its wooden shoulders, its almighty rooftop which is God. And God isn't always perfect. No--sometimes the weight just falls, collapsing, crushing, screaming on top of all it ever loved.
But this home looks out onto the world, unafraid.
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