Sinister: summer, winter and the bits in between
Sunny set
sunnie_set at xxx.com
Thu Jan 23 10:48:44 GMT 2003
The house always reminded me of summer. Of the beach and of the holidays. An
old seaside cottage with odd shaped rooms and many hidden corners. The
outside walls, the colour of sand, covered by roses and ivy and things I
don't know the name of. Plants sprawled chaotically and yet somehow with
perfect order around the borders of the garden. Cracked pavings the home for
moss. Seashells scattered in the soil almost as frequently as ordinary
garden pebbles.
The house reminded me of winter. Of Christmas and of the new year. With
curtains drawn and the open fire lit the house was transformed. A battle
between the damp sea air and burning coal. Red cheeks, hot backs and cold
feet. The upstairs windows rattled, the floor creaked and my heart race, as
I would tell myself that there was nothing to be afraid of and that ghosts
don't really exist.
The house would stay constant despite the changes in my life. As I got older
I started to feel the frustrated. I wanted the house to see that I was
different person since my last visit. 6 months older and a little bit wiser.
The house didn't care! It just kept reminding me of the summer, and of the
winter and of the change of the seasons. My few years of life were nothing
to that old house and it wanted me to make sure that I remembered that.
I said goodbye to the house yesterday. It was a sad moment and I thought
both of us were going to shed a tear or two. At the last moment though, the
house blinked, it wished me well, and told me to "play a long game". I
nodded and sighed as I waved to it for the final time.
Take Care
Rachel
*************
With the current crop of disposable jaw lines and manufactured inanity, it
seems that we need our heroes now more than ever before.
http://www.friendsoftheheroes.co.uk
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