(In some kind of fictional Victorian setting- this story grew from my head whilst I was brushing my teeth- It grew with a character, his quirks and his family and friends....)
Hope you enjoy,
Megan x
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The Darlington house, at the end of Willibye Street really was an unusual household.
From any angle of the street, if a gentleman or a lady stopped to look, it fit in quite normally. A classic town house, with a tall boxy complexion- like all the other houses. It was symmetrical, with precisely 8 windows to be seen from the front, the bottom two hugged and framed it's door - all of the houses on Willibye street were the same, just with different doors and different knockers. Black rails ran along the front of each house, with a gate also at each house, popping up if you walked by at the correct and precise intervals, and every flower box, in every window was filled and blooming healthily. It was the best street in London. As far as the residents were concerned.
Now, the Darlington house as said, was not your usual household on Willibye Street, even if it looked fitting and as much as the residents convinced themselves it was apart of their little community, something was terribly uncommon about it. The door was navy blue, common, the knocker was a small brass hand, very Mediterranean-European but fashionable. But behind that door, within the realms of the house, lived a very different man to the rest of the Willibye Street crowd. And he made his household the unnamable creature it was- Number 4, Willibye Street- where you will find, if looking or asking, for Mr Roberto Chide Smith, artist and writer extraordinaire.
YOU ARE READING
Extraordinary, Extraordinaire!
KurzgeschichtenIf you like art, reading, fine dining and a quirky mind you would shake a stick at then step on in, to number 4, Willibye Street, London - we currently have no destination, just a story on it first legs. Care to dare, and take a stroll into a life y...
