AnElephantCant live in a house
Those tiny doors just get him all befuddled
He prefers to be outside
He likes to run slightly wild
And of course he loves to have a long relaxing shower in a puddle
This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Just click on the link to see some cleverly constructed chronicles in response to this week’s excellent prompt.
But please first cast an eye over AnElephant’s rambling ruins.
It looks quite ordinary.
Just another house in a residential area.
And yet somehow it is different.
And so is she.
She lives there alone, of course, and keeps herself to herself.
She is polite, but distant.
Except with the children, who love her.
They seem not to notice her colour.
Don’t get me wrong, we are very cosmopolitan here, some native Scots, some folk from the sub-continent, some of African or Caribbean origin.
These things don’t bother us.
But she is green.
Well, at least greenish, depending on the light.
And that is the thing about the house.
The children play there a lot.
Hordes of them, running wild, having fun.
Sometimes I ask my two what they do there.
When I try to probe further they get quickly exasperated, as children do.
Occasionally when they come home they seem overly tired.
They can be lethargic for several days afterwards.
But they go back, always.
Maybe it is the weather.
You see, that is what I mean about the light.
It seems somehow brighter over there.
And it never rains in her garden.