100 Words:  There’s something wrong with the house you just bought…   My entry:

I closed the door behind me.  I’d just left the escrow office, handed the keys, and driven straight here.

The house was mine now.  All — just — mine.

It was quiet, vibratingly empty.  Eyes closed, I could hear my breath echo coolly off the hardwood and plaster.

The movers would arrive in a few days, bringing my stuff from storage.  I’d need to figure out here the furniture and boxes should go. Eventually.

I opened my eyes again, looking around.  It would never be the same.  She would never live there.

It would be my house.  But it could never by my home.