I want to live in a tiny house. Away from people, on a plot of land, with a dog. I’d like to test my green thumb and grow an herb garden, and a veggie patch. I’d sleep in the loft with windows in the slanted roof so I could see the stars at night and wake up with the dawn.
Dog and I would go for morning and evening wallks together, places where there’s no cell reception. We go to swimming holes and cool off from the heat, go into town on my days off and visit the library and drink obscene amounts of coffee and say hi to other Dogs and their humans.
I’ll sell my possessions in favour of the tiny house. No microwave and a tiny fridge would mean eating tiny food and biking on a daily basis. I myself would become tiny. Or tinier.
I think I’d be wary of people. Even if I lived in a tiny commune of tiny houses. In the early mornings in winter, Dog and I would go for walks, our breath fogging before us. At night Dog would sleep with me in my lofted bed, keeping each other warm and happy.
A life. Simplified.
Posted on Friday, July 25th 2014