The renovators

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

The renovators strike their pose on E Street, outside number twelve. Adorning ladders, showing steadfast grit through shrouds of sanding dust. Inside the gutted carcass, on the kitchen floor sits Freddy crosslegged, age nearly nine. Playing with his tin soldiers; an entirely different kind of reconstruction. He watches, waiting for them to notice his apparitious nature. But the renovators are too busy to believe in ghosts. He selects his favourites from the colour charts they leave lying. Yellow Submarine, Red Red Wine, Blue Moon. They hear the tunes in their heads alright, but don’t put two and two together. Too focused on four by four. What planks Freddy muses. But they are re-vamping his house. And he laughs at his own supernatural pun. He’s looking forward to having inhabitants again. They have a lot yet to learn about life on E Street. This will be fun.


What a rapid-fire bit of poetry; very impressive.

I also wanted to say that I read many of your previous posts and found them very inspiring. I always admire someone who does what they love doing and whose actions aren't governed by trying to impress others.

The lack of comments are in no way a reflection of the quality of the posts.

Wow thank you, what an awesome thing to say. In fact, it's made my day :)

Brilliant girlfriend!!
I would really like to know more...
Tell me is that really a front door that you found or is it off the web?
Either way you excelled in my challenge sister!!
VERY PROUD.. and very beautifully written

Thanks Senga! Yes that's a photo from my street - although my own front door is actually my favourite. So looking forward to seeing you in a few weeks xx