It was black and square and the lights were almost always out. The other houses looked like alien in an absurd way, with all their roofs hanging by their sides, and all those windows staring blindly towards the street.
The cube, so we called the strange little house beside ours, had only one tiny regular window on one side, like a cyclops. And indeed, it stood sturdy over the pavement, unique, grotesque, indecipherable.
Today while we came back home a new family were occupying the house, by their looks I don't think I can ever become friends with them, dunno why. I would love to live in that house, just one day. Some day.
Should it feel different from ours, how would it be like to look from the inside? Is everything so squared and sharp as the exterior walls? The neighbours, their neck, nose and smiles. Sharp, pointy, so unnaturally designed.