The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.
This month the words are once again supplied by Delores and can be found here.
This week's words are:
1. left
2. bachelor
3. dripping
4. movies
5. doorway
6. mansion
and/or:
1. bunion
2. forlorn
3. estate
4. plush
5. clump
6. rags
Here is my story:
I’d walked through the rusty, once white, wrought iron
estate gates and now stood staring at the wreck that was once my Uncle
Christopher’s mansion. It looked very little like the photograph I held in my
hand. Uncle Christopher had died a decade ago and the estate had only just
become mine after a long futile search by lawyers for any other remaining
members of his family.
The house looked forlorn, with its sagging upper
porch, the lower porch lying on the ground in pieces, although the steps
leading up to where it had been were still in place and looking strong.
(not quite what I pictured in my head but you get the idea, thanks google images)
Window glass was mostly broken, with the tattered rags
of what appeared to be red velvet curtains fluttering through them. A flagstone
path led the way through wide, shady oak trees, dripping from the recent rain,
and flower beds dotted the large lawn areas. The grass was much too long now to
be called a lawn, but a few weekends of work would soon sort that out.
I still wasn’t sure if I would sell the place or live
in it after I’d fixed it up. It reminded me of the plantation houses I’d seen
in movies, with a huge double doorway entrance, presumably for old-fashioned
skirts with wide hoops and many petticoats to swing through.
A clump of bright blue off to my left caught my eye,
and I pushed through the long grass to find a bed of bachelor’s buttons, easily
recognised because my mother also grew them. Maybe they were a sign I should
stay?
(bachelor's buttons, also known as cornflowers, thanks again, google images)
I could see the potential in the bones of the house.
I could also see the miles and miles of fields behind
it. That was far too much land for me. Perhaps I could sell those fields to
farmers on either side? Just keep the acre the house stood on and a small
section behind it for a vegetable garden.
I sighed and walked back to the path leading to the
porch. I climbed the steps, thankfully they were as strong as they looked and
leaped across the gap to the doorstep. Clinging to the handle, I managed to
turn it and push the door open. A large, solid object moved aside as I pushed
and I soon found it to be an overturned plush green sofa. I stood it upright
and sat down a moment to relieve my aching feet. I’d definitely have to get
something done about my bunion if I was going to work at restoring this place.
As I walked through, inspecting each room in turn, I
came to a decision. Sell the fields, use the money to restore the house and
live here for at least a year before making any final decision.
