The House

In the house,
things were always missing.

Someone had to be blamed.
It was often the elder brother.

“It was you,” they said.

He said it wasn’t.
No one listened.

His sister knew it too.
She had seen what happened.

She said nothing.

The matter was closed.

One evening, the key went missing.
They blamed the elder brother.

“It’s not me.”
“It was you.”

After a while,
he stopped saying anything.

He no longer defended himself.
He only stayed quiet.

Eventually,
he left.

His chair remained at the table
for a long time after.

Years passed.

Later, a pair of glasses went missing.

They looked at each other.
Then they turned to the sister.

“It was you,” they said.

She shook her head.

“No,” she said.

“It was you,” they said.

She looked toward the empty place
where her brother used to sit.

The matter was closed.