A piece I did for uni
The house on Johnston Street is being renovated, by I imagine its current owners. For years, it was overgrown, a deserted weatherboard and corrugated iron wreck surrounded by poincianas and yellow oleanders, both foreign and weedy plants to the area. One could imagine the house a busy place of family activity when it was built in the 50s – the bustle of home life, kids playing, father smoking a pipe and reading a paper while the mother toiled in the kitchen and cheerfully – read or otherwise – went about her day’s endless business.
Who knows what happened? The original family moved away and on, leaving this nondescript house on the main drag to become a ghost, empty halls and empty kitchens, bedrooms that only saw daylight through small cracks in the old blinds. Floor boards shaking free of their nails, the asbestos ceilings warping under the pressure of accrued rain seeping through the roof. The lawn became a tangle, home to snakes and lizards, a wildlife refuge in rural suburbia.
But somebody has cared enough to rebuild. The old boards have born torn out and there’s new cladding now. The lawn has been mowed and many of the poincianas and tree orchids have been pruned. It’s almost liveable and the resurrection of the house is reaching finality. Shame…it looked better as an abandoned relic.