Through the glass…

In a quiet street in London, there lived a family. Not a boring, poor or rundown street, nor a deserted street: it was a busy road. Neither a boring, poor or rundown family: these people had many interests.

Their house had a ruby-red rectangular front door, inset with etched glass, with a weathered brass door knob. The door opened, revealing a soft baby blue hall; messy piles of post placed on the radiator, two muddy adult bikes propped up against the wall, shoes slid off – this was an active family.

To the left of the hall was a large sitting room used for gatherings; ahead steep stairs rose to hidden territories. The kitchen – the heart of the family home – was at the end of the hall. This is where the family relaxed. Light and bright (with two large windows and double doors to the garden), dinner cooking, bread baking (always delicious), two heavily laden trunks (with a succession of practical projects always on the go) and clean and dirty crockery decorating the surfaces (not enough servants!).

Practicing punctuation a la Tolkein, by KS, Lady Margaret Schoo