Write poem or prose inspired by a child leaving a house. I can’t write poetry 😉
‘This is my house’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s old and creaky and full of memories. Whatever anyone says it is most definitely mine. What’s more this room is my room. Not Paul’s, or Sandra’s, or Jean’s, but mine.’
He sat down on the wooden floorboards cross legged and said aloud:
“So here we are again. Today is the day when I have to make all this clear once again. It does get a little tiresome going through this so often.”
Sometimes they caught on quite quickly. Rose did. It only took her two nights before she decided to sleep on the landing instead.
June had been trickier. Her nanny assured her that it was all in her imagination and she held on for at least a month. She moved into the smaller bedroom in the end. She hardly came in the room after that. Which was how it should be of course.
So what now he wondered. Another family he presumed. Or maybe a couple that wanted to turn it into a study. That wouldn’t be so bad he supposed. Although it might be a bit dull.
Clarence moved silently around the room wondering what mischief could be done.
A car pulled into the gravel driveway and he looked out of the window to see a smart black car followed by a removal lorry. The car came to a stop and the doors opened. Out climbed four boys aged between four and twelve.
This was going to be interesting. Boys were often tougher nuts to crack. And four of them could be a challenge.