Photo courtesy of Morguefile
Melissa looked down at the keys resting in her palm before looking up again at the cottage. Was she dreaming again? It did not seem like it was happening. “Seriously?” Melissa questioned her husband, Andrew, who was standing beside her. “We own this?”
He hesitated then. This was not the enthusiastic response he thought looking at this cottage would give his wife. “You don’t like it?”
She brushed her blonde hair back from her face and stared again at the cottage. “Are you kidding me?” Melissa didn’t wait for a reply before she continued. “I have been dreaming about this house since forever. It even has that white picket fence I have always wanted.” She stepped forwards and hesitantly touched the rough wood as if she was afraid that it would disintegrate under her fingers. It didn’t.
Relief flooded Andrew as he picked up one of many boxes around him. “I knew you would like it, now come on and open the door so we can start moving in!”
“Like it?” Her eyes drifted over the front of the cottage. “I love it, it’s perfect!” She walked over to fumble with the keys in the lock. As the doors swung open, she gave a quick glance back towards the road. “Well, it will be perfect when we get rid of those EU flags.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. That was the Melissa he had been waiting to see. The one ready to change perfection.
I wrote this in response to this week’s Sunday photo fiction.