The mystery guest

The wind glided in the open door and blew open the refrigerator.

Out tumbled the fruit scattering strawberries, grapes, blueberries rolling across the green tile

And out flopped the watermelon,

Splat, crunch, squirt with sticky red stuff dropletted on cabinets, oven, island

The seeds slowly creeping down the sides of the doors.

The wind flapped into the open window causing the curtains to catch in a dust devil

It took papers from the coffee table and mixed them with the potting soil and leaves as the plants smashed down.

The television protested by cracking its screen.

The lamp shade lifted elegantly and talked the ceiling fan into giving it a ride.

Apparently, someone wanted a carnival.

The bedroom was the worst/best as the wind took a circuitous route through the heater/cooler ducts, winding its way through a funnel of silver foil to burst into the room.

It tried out the bed by lifting the quilt, tangling the sheets and fluffing the pillows.

The dirty laundry, clean folded towels and the dresses in the closet took to the air, filling up to dance and mix and mingle like some wild do-si-do.

All the shoes came marching out tapping their way across the dressers, the jewelry collapsed in a pile of despair.

Fleeing the room, the carpets in the hallway rolled themselves up and found their way to the living room to argue with the pillows from the couch.

Apparently, whoever was riding the wind that day, did not need to use the restroom. Thank goodness!