The Big House

gateway-jhardy
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Would often stand here as a kid, peering through the railings at the big house, wondering what it must be like inside. Used to catch a glimpse of the people who lived there, big  flashy car, kids at the posh school outside town. People said the bloke what owned the place was worth millions, made his money from property, or something like that. Apparently he lives there on his own now. Wife left him for someone else, is what they’re saying, took the kids with her. Wonder if I knocked on the door he’d let me have a look round?

MikeJackson©2017

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7 thoughts on “The Big House

  1. There was a house up in hills that looked like the White House with its white pillars. Each time I passed it I wonder the same thing

  2. So different, yet so similar. It’s disturbing.

    The view could be that which met Dicken’s Pip when he first visited Miss Havisham? Or the alt-view of The Mall which UK viewers have recently seen on the TV take on Deigthtons dystopia SS-GB? Or the caged-in view of The White House on Pennsylvania Avenue that is now, not always but often, beamed out globally in news updates from Washington D.C.?

    Unpresidented? Certainly. Prophetic? Possibly.

    I wonder if this is – https://twitter.com/trumpdraws -what we’ll find if in some near future we peek behind the dust doused curtains of the infamous Elliptical Office? An angry aging man, by turns blinking more orange / less orange like Belisha’s Beacon? Left solitary, the acolytes long since departed, and eternally condemned to drawing-up ever dafter powerless policy pictures?

  3. Look at them. One stops and gawks up at the house, next one does the same. Curious to know what there is to look at I suppose. Nothing is the answer, even if there was, wouldn’t be their business.

    That guy out walking his dog, he’ll be next. And those two jogging, they’ll be takin’ time out, to peek. I swear this is wearing my patience thin. ‘Pass on by!’ I want to shout.

    There’s near on twenty now, no talkin’ just gawpin’. Enough is enough. I’m going to count to ten, slowly, then start takin’ em out.

    ‘Ding DONG!’

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