"Honey, I want to lock the shed, I'll be right back after..."

"After..." his wife called from the basement rooms, somewhere behind several walls. "After, what?

"After, I, well, after I find my keys..."

Shelia smiled. This was nothing new. The house was new, however. Well, wait, it was new to her and her husband. It was made in the fifties if the handprints on the front sidewalk were to be believed. They were child's hands and they had 'September 52' written beside them.

So it must be the fifties.

But the house held no smell at all. It was not a clean aroma; it was not a clouded aroma of reconstituted rooms.

It was the lifeless smell of empty rooms.

Rooms that now were filled with boxes. The new employment meant that they did not have to beg, borrow or steal items any more--she noticed and regretted that the cardboard around her were a litany of words from local groceries and food suppliers. Black marker covered what it could--but it still gave off the feeling that she was living in a burrowed boxes.

She wondered when she would grow up and move on.

"Honey? Have you seen my..."

She had already looked around twice.

"No, no keys down here."

He didn't yell the last sentence. He had entered the room, but he looked at every available edge.

"They aren't on the keyhook either. That was the first thing I hung up. I knew this would happen."

"It's okayh, we'll find it, here, use, oh wait," she looked down at her own key ring. "I don't have the keys to the shed. Guess Fate doesn't want you out there."

"Maybe it's time for a break?"

"Sounds like a plan. I think I know where the coffeemaker is."

"Let's head up."

The low warble greeted them.

"And I guess you probably forgot where they were whilst you were watching Oprah, eh?"

Her new husband looked confused.

"I was not watching television. Why would I wathc television now?"

They entered the room that would eventually become the media center. The wires were still housed in plastic container, untouched. The television had to be placed-it was too heavy to have to lift and move frequently. It's home on the stand in the corner was now bathed in a low blue light.

"Cable guy comes next week, right?"

"I thought so."

Oprah was watching.

"Curiousier and curiousier," Shelia noticed as she moved closer. The television was plugged in, but that was more out of instinct then wanting to watch.

The screen went blank.

"Keys?"

"Keys. And coffee. I think we're losing it."


Write an interior scene where the television is a part of the scene.