Eye Color and House
Lucky
It was a beautiful autumn day. There was a carpet of golden leaves crunching under my feet as I walked. It was not very warm, but it wasn’t cold, it was the perfect temperature. Actually it was the perfect day. I was out walking my beautiful dog, Lucky. We were strolling down Mavis Street and I was looking at all the houses. The town where Lucky and I live has just been rebuilt recently, so all the buildings are all the same, it gets a bit boring… nothing interesting to look at, well except for one thing.
I looked up the street at Mr Crawford’s house, the oldest house in our town. Rumours say that when the town got rebuilt Mr Crawford threatened the workers if they came near his house… but then you can’t always believe what you hear. I’ve never actually seen Mr Crawford but I imagine him as an old man, late 60’s, hunched over from spinal injuries and very, very skinny. Anyway, Mr Crawford’s house, it’s in horrible condition. The garden is overgrown with tangled branches of trees hiding the house, weeds spilling onto the pathway below, the green paint peeling of the brick walls of the house, the windows planked up and the creepiest part of the house is that the door never opens.
“Come on Lucky, let’s go.” I called as Lucky was started to wander off sniffing the ground “Lucky, LUCKY !” I yelled “Lucky come back !” Where is he going !? Oh no… “LUCKY !” I called, he is running towards Mr Crawford’s house. I ran after him.
“Lucky, Lucky where are you ?” I yelled out, he had run into Mr Crawford’s garden and I can’t see him through the trees and weeds. I am standing at the gate too terrified to go inside. ‘This house is even creepier close up’ I thought to myself. Okay, I’m going in… For Lucky.
I opened the gate old, rusty gate very slowly trying not to make too much noise. “Lucky, where are you ?” I whispered, trying not to alert Mr Crawford. I searched the front yard high and low, but I still couldn’t find Lucky. I walked through to the back yard and started
It was a beautiful autumn day. There was a carpet of golden leaves crunching under my feet as I walked. It was not very warm, but it wasn’t cold, it was the perfect temperature. Actually it was the perfect day. I was out walking my beautiful dog, Lucky. We were strolling down Mavis Street and I was looking at all the houses. The town where Lucky and I live has just been rebuilt recently, so all the buildings are all the same, it gets a bit boring… nothing interesting to look at, well except for one thing.
I looked up the street at Mr Crawford’s house, the oldest house in our town. Rumours say that when the town got rebuilt Mr Crawford threatened the workers if they came near his house… but then you can’t always believe what you hear. I’ve never actually seen Mr Crawford but I imagine him as an old man, late 60’s, hunched over from spinal injuries and very, very skinny. Anyway, Mr Crawford’s house, it’s in horrible condition. The garden is overgrown with tangled branches of trees hiding the house, weeds spilling onto the pathway below, the green paint peeling of the brick walls of the house, the windows planked up and the creepiest part of the house is that the door never opens.
“Come on Lucky, let’s go.” I called as Lucky was started to wander off sniffing the ground “Lucky, LUCKY !” I yelled “Lucky come back !” Where is he going !? Oh no… “LUCKY !” I called, he is running towards Mr Crawford’s house. I ran after him.
“Lucky, Lucky where are you ?” I yelled out, he had run into Mr Crawford’s garden and I can’t see him through the trees and weeds. I am standing at the gate too terrified to go inside. ‘This house is even creepier close up’ I thought to myself. Okay, I’m going in… For Lucky.
I opened the gate old, rusty gate very slowly trying not to make too much noise. “Lucky, where are you ?” I whispered, trying not to alert Mr Crawford. I searched the front yard high and low, but I still couldn’t find Lucky. I walked through to the back yard and started