Wednesday, September 05, 2007

A house I pass every morning No. 3



There was a time when she was smaller than he, thirty years ago perhaps. She could snuggle up beside him, brightly pink and vulnerable.

But in the meantime, he has shrunk, browned in the sun and wizzened. Now, he pulls his hat down over his ears, pretends she isn't there, towering over him.

He doesn't see how she retains her looks, bright, clean, sexy in a pink now faded, but which still whispers "come and get me".

Hidden behind a tree, away from prying eyes, the neighbours are building an extension...

5 comments:

Bee said...

Hahahaha! Do you think they are on 'tu' terms or would she insist on the 'vous'?

Jonathan Wonham said...

Hello Bee,

Yes, I think you're right. She probably does insist on 'vous'. Whether it does any good, I'm not sure...

Dick said...

I'd like one of those transported to Hertfordshire, complete with French price!

Clare said...

Oh that is wonderful, Jonathan...I love it!

Jonathan Wonham said...

Dick - I'm not sure they'd survive the journey all that well! What's more, the price might not be all that attractive as you might think... The grass is always greener...

Clare - Thank you, glad you're enjoying these. There are more to come.