Tuesday, 24 January 2012

I don't just do science fiction

I’ve searched for years for the perfect house. Now, perhaps, I’ve found it.
I knew all along I’d never be able to afford a place that had all the elements that had I dreamed of. Such a sweet old man.  When I knocked on the front door and asked if he would consider selling it to me, he invited me in and gave me tea and biscuits. Unfortunately he had no intention of selling it and had bequeathed it to charity. As he showed me round the house he told a little about himself. He’d been born in this house, had lived here all his life and intended to die here.
It was the least I could do.

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