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An old house

It was certainly overpriced. And rather old and dilapidated. But it was also in a lovely, quiet neighbourhood, located at the end of a cul-de-sac, with lots of garden space for the children to run about and play in. There were sad droopy flowers growing in a flower bed just outside the main door. The driveway was in the shape of a horse-shoe with a small water fountain in the middle. A dull grey statue of Cupid stood there, with sad forlorn eyes.

It wasn’t much better inside. The stairs creaked and there were cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Only a few lights worked. The crystal chandelier hanging in the dining room was broken, little splinters of glass fallen onto the dining table, a big majestic dark wood structure seating 10. The bathrooms were quaint and large and she felt this great urge to pee. So she did. The flush didn’t work. Half the bathroom fixtures were broken.

But this was a beautiful house. She didn’t care.

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