 Once inside, you saw the furniture, the incomplete set of dishes, the big screen. In the basements were discarded toys and the faint smell of mold. The keys in a ceramic bowl they'd brought back from Seville or Istanbul. Coats for every kind of weather except what they had right now, lined up on hooks, waiting for fall. On the refrigerators, reminders and clever quotes held by magnetic bumblebees. On the calendars, days circled in red.