How did I stop seeing so much detail in my daydreams? How did those generous proportions of possibility and vision get so obscured and condensed? Did they start to be obscured when I started obeying an instinct to tell people it was a show, not my mind, that presented such ideas?
For the record, now that I can picture it, I cannot unpicture it. I would live in that house in a second given half a chance.