You Are Just A Guest
James T Kelly
Copyright 2012 James T Kelly
Published by Skerry Books Ltd publishing at Smashwords
Cover image courtesy of Jo Naylor
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Anne Felix’s Blog
So we moved in to our new house today. Our first home as a married couple. We didn’t get off to the best start; we didn’t finish unloading everything from the truck until half-six, so now we’ll be charged for another day. Jon said something about it being an omen and I told him not to be so silly.
Anyway, the house. It’s not an impressive looking place. The brickwork was white once upon a time. Now it’s a tired grey with brown and black stains. It’s crumbling, too, which I hadn’t noticed before. The little gravel garden is completely overgrown, grass and weeds and all sorts. Lord knows what’s lurking in there. The front door sticks to the point that we almost needed to build a rudimentary battering-ram. Though Jon probably would have enjoyed that.
My first words when we stepped inside were, “It’s so empty.” I think it’s the bare wooden flooring and the fact the landlady didn’t provide curtains. Our footsteps are loud, echoing things, bouncing off bare walls and naked windows. The floorboards creak and groan, too, as if protesting against our weight. It made me miss the flat, and for a moment I wanted to turn around and go back.
We’ve piled up all the furniture, boxes and what-not and left it huddled in the middle of the living room. The only thing we’ve done is build the bed, so we’ve got somewhere to sleep. Right now we’re lying on it, waiting for our pizza to arrive. The bedroom seemed cosy before – “dark and snuggly”, Jon called it – but it seems unfriendly and sparse compared to our old room. The light doesn’t seem to reach all the way into the corners, nooks and crannies.