Zevel Domain

We arrived to New York, excited and scared. As we departed from the plane immigration approached us with some plastic little blue card and called it a Green Card. We took it and looked at the strange pictures of us. Zevel wobbling down the luggage pick up spoted us and came over to our sides.

After a long drive to somewhere we unloaded the cab and lined up our suitcases in front of a house in the middle of a big street, in a large road, and the house was huge. We all just stood there until Zevel began taking the cases up the stairs into the front door.

We cautiously walked into the front room and the nightmare had begun. The first thing we noticed, the spider webs everywhere hinted at the life we were about to embark. Dust and filth was everywhere including pennys. The floors were half torn and the couch was filthy, the walls were filthier and the windows were huge and filled with dirt.

I stood frozen at the front door wondering how we were ever going to sleep in this house of horrors. Mother was as spotless as anyone can be, and how is she ever going to make this haunted house into a home. I slowly stepped into the living room and examined the surroundings looking for something that would remedy my horror, but the more I looked the worse it looked. The kitchen was sticky and muddy and dusty, and looked like no one has been in there for years. I walked from room to room and in my hazy jetlag mindset I kept wondering how are we going to sleep? Could this be a joke? Upstairs in the bedrooms dirty and dusty old folding beds were standing with a bare mattress and shaky legs. The bathroom looked like a back alley dumpster, and it smelled like an old muddy basement. All I could think about was if I should begin to cry.
I want to go home!