Because no matter what happens, there will always be imagination

Later:
He had the key to the house but the locks had been changed and just when they were getting worried the key worked and they got in. The heat has not been on in weeks, maybe he said and she said she didn't mind, maybe and they walked up the stairs.
A mounted skeleton head watched her from the kitchen fridge as she tiptoed around the kitchen floor and looked inside the kitchen oven, expecting to see last-nights last-overs. The kitchen oven was empty but the kitchen drawer was not, it was half-full-not-half-empty of peeled garlic and dirty spoons.
I want to get out of here she whispered when she saw his shower door led into the living room and his piano was open but dusty with three doll heads on the propboard (these were his father's, of course, but of course she still missed the comforts of her doll-head-less dormroom.)
They creaked up the stairs and ducked under the wires and he said wait, here.
He opened the room's door and stopped and said fuck you dad and he said nothing and he said fuck you dad when he saw the the stripped walls and stripped wallpaper and he laughed when the only lasting relic from his childhood was the one thing his father couldn't strip, which was the water heater.
Let's go she said and she closed the door.
They went upstairs where a windchime hung from the beams and EE Cummings wrote on the floor and he remembered he lived there, this was where he lived (but his father did too). They started a fire and grabbed two flashlights and huddled under the blankets for warmth and huddled under the blankes with the books and eachother and with eachother they looked through books his father had maybe never touched because the bindings still popped.
The fire popped and the bindings popped and under-blanketed and under-warmthed she helped him escape from being under-fathered.

Then:

A thin slice across the wrist his father said is just what teaches a boy to mind his words. His son asked what teaches a father to mind his words and his father said take the leash and ive the dog a walk. His son said the dog's just been outside and his father said no, no I think teh dog i'm looking at needs to get out of my house.
His son walked the leash out of the house and forgot the dog and turned back and let the dog out and when he turned back around she was there.
Hey I've seen you before he said and she said I know we go to school together and he said where do you live and she said around here, maybe adn he said you don't know? and she said no, you don't.
Scared? he said Of you? she said Yes he said No she said.
You're strange he said.
A police car whistled by and the trees and the yard and a brick building kept a polite little boy in his house from whistling back. The dog strained against the leash and the leaves strained against their stems and the boy strained against his fear and said want to go for a walk? The girl laughed to him and he caught it and put it in his pocket next to the sound of a typing keyboard and wind wrapped in the sails and the squirrel outside his window and he said, what was that for?
You're strange she said and she was quiet and she said no I won't go on a walk with you and your dog, but I will tell you where I live.

Now:
"Knock twice, and if I don't respond go away" the door read. He knocked once on the door and waited no response so he knocked twice on the door and waited no response and he thought that's it and he turned away. But then he turned back and said no he said no that's not it and he opened the door. No response.
The sweaty ship tilted and when he opened the sweaty door a hinge broke and the door bottom scraped on the sweaty-floor-bottom. He knocked into a barrel marked Fragile and got not response so he kept moving, past the crates and barrels and straw-crusted cages all marked, Fragile. The door stayed open and leaked in the sounds of dark waves crashing, dark waves smashing. Not much farther, must be, he thought. No response.
He got to the end of the hallway with a door marked Glass House Theatre with two doorbells and a rusty intercom and he thought, this? Is where she lives. I'm being watched he thought and he smiled and he said it out loud I'm being watched.
She came out of the Glass House Theatre and said I didn't expect you so soon but I'm glad it's you and he said me too.
This is me returning your phone call he said and she smiled and said I don't have a phone, you know someday you're going to ahve to stop being so dramatic and he said you were expecting that line, weren't you? And she said yes and he said well then I guess I wasn't being dramatic enough.