**~ So you think you deserve the brownie? ~**

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

The landlady was out when they lugged the final batch of their belongings up the tiny stone path and through the rickety wooden fence which hid their house from public view. Locked out of their new home, they glanced around and realized how unkempt the shrubbery surrounding the house was. In an attempt to make their accommodations more homely and aesthetically pleasing, they tugged hard at the weeds and withered plant matter that had twined themselves firmly with the greenery and swept away the pile of dead leaves that had found their way onto the courtyard in front of the house. She walked around to the back of the house, wondering what lay behind it, and was surprised to find a deserted mannequin dressed in a brown frock in the middle of the open backyard. It was then that she remembered that the landlady proclaimed herself to be a fashion designer. She wondered when exactly the creation was made, for it seemed quite worse for the wear, and had undoubtedly weathered many a downpour since, for even now, it was drenched in what she could only assume as afternoon dew.

"Look! An orange tree!", her housemate exclaimed.

Amazing how it was growing just behind the house, she thought. Tiny oranges beckoned at her through the wind, and she wondered for the briefest of moments if they were poisonous. A noise in the front yard caught her attention and brought her to investigate what it could be. The landlady was back.

As she stepped into the dark and dilapidated looking house, she wonders what made her decide to take it when she first saw it. The house smelled musty, had dirty green carpets and was lacking a bedroom door. The cheery old lady turned on the living room light, which was just a light bulb really, the lampshades long forgotten high up on the kitchen cabinets. Yellow light flooded the room, but only for a brief second, as darkness swooped down upon the trio again. The light bulb had fused.

Left alone after the customary greetings, hugs and a solemn promise from their landlady that a new light bulb will be provided in the near future, the two girls gave their new quarters a cusory glance, and commenced on their new chores with a sigh very much lacking in gusto.

Carpets were vacuumed while beds were made. She thought that the vaccum cleaner emitted a peculiar and rather nauseating smell, which was accentuated by the gas heating in the house. It was then decided that the house door should be left open so as to air it up a little. The kitchen was next, as the duo busied themselves with cleaning cabinets and drawers which looked like they originated from the previous century, an assumption backed up by the evidence of smell.

Amazement filled her eyes when she saw how dirty the cups provided by the landlady were. Never in her life has she ever seen cups that had spider webs and dead leaves in them. Never up this close anyway.

Exhausted after all the cleaning the afternoon held for them, they finally had the time to take a breather, as well as their dinners over an episode of "The Simpsons". It was ten at night by the time she could drag her weary self into the miniscule bathroom for her bath, where further surprises awaited her. She sighed at the absences of hooks for her clothes and locks for the bathroom door.

By the time she lay her tired body onto not-so-comfortable the bed, she was totally wiped out, yet unable to fall asleep. Her MP3 player chose to forsake her at this moment. Great, she thought, home sweet home.

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**jojo is still pouting @ |2:11 PM|

1 Comments:

Ang Gu Gu said at 12:36 AM: pat pat =p