Locked Out

My novel is a house and it thinks it can lock me out.
I am the architect!


How does it know I have no key?

I bang on the front door.
Demand admittance.
Search for a window left unlatched.

What else to do now but
sit
on the
front steps
and wait, go
round
to the back and wheedle,

Why have you locked the door?
What did I do to offend you?

Let me in, I was only kidding
about the renovations.

Fine, I say, be that way,
I didn't love you anyway.

You'll be sorry.

I'm going now, good bye.
Maybe I'll drop in on that short story
I started before
I met you.

In the night I get up
to check on the house.

The doors are still closed,
the windows all dark

What are they doing in there without me?