07/12/15 - untitled

- 1 min

Panicked and eyes wide, a dog races around an old house, where dust kicks up at his paws. Up the stairs in frantic bounds and soon back down. In the bathroom at the top of the stairs is a running faucet. The faucet’s outpour amplifies. Water begins pouring over the sink and into the white tile floor. At a disproportional pace, the liquid begins spilling down the stairs, soaking the rug and soon the first floor has filled with water up to the top of the steps. From the street, the house is full, yet no leaks can be seen. The house lifts into the air, pulled from its roots (like a tree) and begins to bob in as if in water itself. Like a fleet of ships, buoyant houses all around are billowed by the sudden smooth, levitating wind. The stretched wood echoes through the valley where the neighborhood quietly nests.