The Quiet House

[smokingboot]

He was a spring chicken hunter
His was a quiet house with
Harry Potter on repeat for
Hermione's transformations.
He seldom hung around the school
Though he might watch through a windscreen
(He was good with screens)
Now and then at hometime
He offered a couple of lifts
And if there was more to it 
back in his quiet house, no-one knew.

Sitting in his car one day
A woman with a face like a brick
Thumped on the roof
Gestured at him to 
Wind his window down.
He shouldn't have he realised
When she told him to
Pack his bags and get out.
No panic for a spring chicken hunter
Who thought of taking her
to his quiet house
Where he could calm her down
But when he offered she laughed 
Said she knew the place well
And him better. Time to go.

In the quiet house 
Memories wiped clean every day
He racked his brain
While packing the car
How she heard, how she -
He had never been loud.
Inside the house or car.
Just ignition clutch, throttle.
Such a smart spring chicken hunter
Til that moment he forgot
About forgetting and
drove straight into the lamp post 
three doors down his street.

And the quiet house
With its face of bricks 
Breathed out.