The Line #WelcometotheBlumhouse

The Line

Her father would never let her get this close to The Line.

Abby knew that. That's why she stood right at it, dangerously the way an 8 year old would as soon as their parent was distracted. And distracted Father was. A pipe in the kitchen had burst during breakfast, spraying them and all their oatmeal with water. Abby smiled, thinking about how she got to waste her oatmeal, although she knew very well she'd go hungry until diner. And her father, who usually supervised her, remained inside to dutiful fox the sink for Mother.

"How about you play inside today?" Father had suggested, wiping the water from his father with the dish towel. Abbey had just finished scraping her bowl and was letting Tobin-the big goofy golden retriever-eat her scraps. She wondered where Tobin was too. Whenever anyone got this close to The Line was was barking his furry head off. Of course the surrounding fog seemed to swallow up his parks, and it always sounded ad though he were just barking at a wall. There was no echo anymore, Abby noticed.

The thought of testing the echo sprung to Abby's curious mind. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't do this inside, Mother would so furious. "But I want to go outside. To use my outside voice." Abby replied, her voice deliberate to make sure her parents were understanding. They had a way to talking around her to get her to do something she didn't want to do, like shoveling the front step or cleaning the litter box.

"You can't go outside alone. It's too dangerous." Father shook his head. His worried gazed shot towards the window. Towards the vast green field of their yard, and then at the thick wall of fog that inhale the trees and everything else. The was The Line.

But Abby, by batting her eyes and wrapping her tiny pinky finger around her mother's, managed to convince them to let her outside alone. That was all it took to convince them she was "mature" enough, whatever that meant.

The Abby stood, toeing the grass as far as she could go. This fog was different, it didn't seem to get clearer when she got closer to it. Everything beyond it stayed invisible, shrouded in white, wrapped like a very boring birthday present. All of Abby's favorite trees were still there, she could feel their happy presence. If she stayed quiet enough-which was easy to do since the fog ate up all the white noise-she could almost hear them calling to her.

Come in, Abby!

Come See Us!

It had to be a good sign. She heard leaves rustling against the ground, crickets chirping, and even a little brook flowing, although she couldn't ever remember there being one there. And more importantly, Tobin was silent, wherever he was.

"Just for a second," Abbey says out loud.