Back to the old house

Today I crept up to my old flat in Kelburn to collect mail… only to find that the mailbox has now disappeared. And the long path has been properly graveled, eight years after promised. The builders appeared to have completely finished – there’s a brand new shiny deck, and the entire house is now a rather dull shade of brownish-cream, like a glossy coat of varnish on a rotten chocolate, or a desperate last-minute rider on an unattractive piece of legislation.

The new front door stood invitingly open. Dare I go up the path and have a look inside? Well, we all know what would’ve happened – it would’ve snapped shut, and that’s the last anyone would see of young Grant.

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