INVENTORY

household contents, form 9‑b. kept for insurance purposes. updated whenever I remember to check.

policyholder: (fill in your own name, if you're still sure it's yours)

policy no.: 000‑HOLLOW‑000 · date filed: ongoing · last revised: the night I stopped checking

  1. 01.

    one (1) cast-iron skillet, handle always warm to the touch

  2. 02.

    a stack of mail addressed to "the previous tenant" — there is no previous tenant on record

  3. 03.

    forty-one (41) house keys, none of which open any door I can find

  4. 04.

    a pencil mark on the kitchen doorframe, recording a child's height, in a hand I don't own, two inches taller every year I haven't lived here

  5. 05.

    a tooth, recovered from the bathroom drain — not a baby tooth, and not fully grown, either

  6. 06.

    the smell of bleach, confined to the one room nobody in this house has ever cleaned

  7. 07.

    one (1) day of the week, simply missing — ask me what today is and I will answer wrong, with total confidence

  8. 08.

    a second set of footprints by the back door, always a half-size smaller than mine, always a little fresher

  9. 09.

    a voicemail from myself, time-stamped next Tuesday, that I have not recorded yet

  10. 10.

    a name I used to answer to, folded up small and kept somewhere I won't write down here

  11. 11.

    the section of the basement that does not appear on the blueprint, and the staircase leading to it, which also does not appear on the blueprint

  12. 12.

  13. 13.

    the remainder of this entry has been removed from the record, for their own good