The Poetics of Space

So after I've delivered the papers, I come home to my apartment, except that it's not my apartment anymore, but it is. I open the door and stop. The furniture is arranged differently and I think I've got the wrong apartment. I'm about to apologize to someone when Warden and Regrette come bounding from my bedroom, wanting to be taken for a walk. "Is that Curt?" I hear from inside the bedroom. WTF.

There's Guy in my bed. There's Guy in my bedroom, except, he's rearranged that too. "Curt," he says, rubbing his eyes. "So good to see you."
"What happened, Guy? What happened to my place?" I say.
"Curt, Curt, Curt," Guy says, raising his hands, sensing that I'm agitated. "It's the Feng Shui. It was all wrong."
Regrette and Warden are barking in the living room. I want to ask them why they let Guy move everything around. Why?
"Feng Shui?" I say. "More like you F***ed S**t up," I say. I didn't really say this. But, I wanted to...
Regrette and Warden start growling.
"If it ain't right," Guy says, "it'll cost you your life, you know."

I don't know what he's talking about. Or who he's become. But then again, I didn't know him know him ever, but only thought I did. "I can't believe you've been living so wrong for so long," Guy says. "You'll see. This is the first day of the rest of your life." He gets out of bed. He's naked. He was naked in my bed! I am not happy about this.

Homes used to talk about the poetics of space. He used to ask me if I lived in a nest or a shell. "Do you live in a nest or a shell, Curt?"
"A shell," I said.
"That's nice," Homes used to say. That's all he used to say when we talked about the poetics of space. I wonder if it was like Feng Shui.

I wonder if Homes secretly wanted me to say that I lived in a nest. I wonder if Homes also lived in a shell. I wonder if today is really the first day of the rest of my life. I wonder when Guy will leave.