SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH THE WORLD
The pendulum clock struck slowly, its every other chime as usual
setting up a sympathetic vibration in the pewter vase that stood
upon the mantel.
Mr. Chambers got to his feet, strode to the door, opened it and
looked out.
Moonlight tessellated the street in black and silver, etching
the chimneys and trees against a silvered sky.
But the house directly across the street was not the same. It
was strangely lopsided, its dimensions out of proportion, like a
house that suddenly had gone mad.
He stared at it in amazement, trying to determine what was wrong
with it. He recalled how it had always stood, foursquare, a solid
piece of mid-Victorian architecture.
Then, before his eyes, the house righted itself again.
With a sigh of relief, Mr. Chambers turned back into the
hall.
But before he closed the door, he looked again. The house was
lopsided -- worse than before
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