Program Notes | A lesbian couple falls asleep at their couch and awakens to find their aging house has changed—subtly at first but then more and more unnervingly. All the while, they hear strange noises in the vicinity.

Text | “Wait, rewind,” I say. “I wasn’t finished.” Claire rewinds the tape, and pauses. I read the dialogue card. As soon as Hutter crossed the bridge, he was seized by the eerie visions he so often told me of… “Okay,” I say. “Continue.” Claire laughs. “Sally James, owner of the last black and white TV.” “Best way to watch silent films,” I say. We kiss. As I grow sleepier, I give up on reading the title cards and just enjoy the music. Claire yawns. I snuggle up against her and pull the blanket up around me. We should probably go to bed, but the couch is so comfortable. My eyes slide shut. I awaken to darkness, still nestled against my girlfriend. She stirs, and sits up. “Thanks for turning the TV off,” I say. “Wait, I thought you did,” she says. I get up and feel for a light switch but can’t find one. I bump into a desk. A desk that should be on the other side of the room. Maybe I’m still waking up. “Maybe it auto turned off,” Claire says. By reflex, I shake my head. “It’s too old. It— Oh, what am I doing? The lights’re out, too, I bet.” My hand brushes against an old lantern. My grandma had a few of those, but I moved them to the attic after she died. All of them. On the off chance, I feel around for matches, and find a box. I light the lantern. Slowly, my eyes adjust. The lightswitches are gone. A baby grand piano sits where the TV should be. I hear a thud in the next room. Claire runs to me and grabs my hand. I take a breath, and we follow the sound. This should be the kitchen. That door leads to the kitchen. Not a hallway, and certainly not such a long one. A door stands at the end of the hall. Shadows dance along the walls as we move forward. The floor slopes upward. Something clatters and bangs in the distance. The noises grow louder. “Is someone there?” I ask. “Yeeeesssss,” A ghastly voice says. I gulp. Claire looks at me. I squeeze her hand. She nods, and we continue. The floor steepens. The hall lengthens. Somehow, we reach the end. We enter the door, and slam it shut behind us. I look around. “Well, at least the kitchen’s still here,” Claire says. The fridge is gone. The stove is an old woodfire oven. The table’s set with my grandma’s favorite plates and silverware. Near the end of the room, a person’s shadow appears, then climbs a flight of stairs and vanishes. We follow, reaching a tall double door at the top. The doors are covered in my grandma’s paintings. Claire squeezes my hand. I smile at her and nod. We open the doors. I can’t see the walls or the ceiling of the next room. It’s bright, and vast. Fog covers the floor. Ahead, I see her. My grandma. Not how I knew her, but younger, like in her pictures. I drop the lantern and run up and hug her. “I’ve missed you,” I say. “Grandma, I have so many questions.” She hugs me back. The room shifts. Walls and ceiling fade into view, sharpen, come into focus. The shape of the room is all too familiar. We’re back in the living room. Light switches reappear. I hear the creak of a desk sliding along the floor, back to where it goes. The piano morphs into an old TV. No. No! My grandma’s hug grows weaker. I can see through her now. Then she’s gone again. The TV turns back on. I scream.