NotJustAHatStand

There's a house round the corner from here that makes me sad. It's a pretty little bungalow, on a nice street, with a wee patch of garden at the front. It makes me sad because it's so neglected.

I thought the garden in our rental flat was bad, but that was nothing compared to this place. There's a waist-height garden wall, and beyond that... weeds, weeds and more weeds. The weeds are level with the wall. And densely packed. They are established weeds. They could almost be classed as shrubs. There are some wild flowers growing in one patch, which are actually really pretty and if the rest of the garden wasn't a complete wilderness it would look kind of Victorian-kitchen-gardeny, but as it is it just looks neglected. The tall hedges on either side crowd in and make the front of the house dark and gloomy.

The house itself is a bit tumbledown too - the whitewash is flaking away, and the woodwork round the windows is all scabby and looks rotten. There are mouldy-looking curtains hanging haphazardly from all the windows, which never seem to be opened. They look like they would dissolve altogether in a stiff breeze mind you, so maybe it's a good thing that they're untouched.

All the other houses on the street are well looked after, and you see the inhabitants out at the weekend, mowing their lawns, or washing their cars. But this wee house looks dark and lonely, and a bit creepy - even in daylight. I always imagine some reclusive Miss Havisham-like character lurking inside, peering out at all the happy people going about their lives and cursing them for it. Every time I walk past I look for signs of life because I'm really curious to find out if the house is inhabited, and if so, by whom. Only once have I seen any indication of it being lived in - I was walking past one night and there was a faint light coming from one of the windows...

It was dark and windy, it was just me and my overactive imagination and this was the first time I'd seen any movement. You might be expecting me to say that I boldly marched up the path and chapped on the door to find out the answer to the burning question, but I didn't.

I scuttled off quick-smart, checking over my shoulder all the while to make sure I wasn't being pursued by an angry hermit.

Labels: Mystery, Neighbours