A Little House

I’ve seen a little house, a dear little house. Enclosed, it is, within high green fences and secured by a green gate; it is hidden from the world, a secluded haven. It has a luscious patch of garden and a small bed of strawberries; paving stones, just a few, lead to a summerhouse; trees and bushes enclose the garden from nosiness.


This is not the house I write about, though it does look like a larger version of the garden’s summerhouse. I just wanted to show an image of small, cosy living space.

Two up, two down, is this house (with a bathroom as well) – and in my area.

I have now visited it twice – and, each time, it has folded itself a bit more tightly into my heart and soul.

The practicalities are formidable – but may not be impossible.

But this small abode has my name written all over it. I felt at home there immediately and am filled with happiness when I think of it. Even before I saw it for the first time, I had a vision of sitting in the garden, with friends and family, relaxed and at peace and laughing and safe.

It represents more than a house to me. It has become a symbol of hope; a sign that there is life after divorce; that there will be a safe and secure space for me somewhere – and a sign that, for all the misery of one phase ending, there will also be a new beginning.

Dear little house. Maybe you will be mine one day!


13 thoughts on “A Little House

    1. alienorajt

      Excellent advice, Steve – thanks. I have an appointment later relating to some aspects of all of this. As I said to Sue, I will walk in hope, but keep reality on the other side. xxx


        1. alienorajt

          I am going to give it my absolute best shot. Will let you know possible outcomes later. Two appointments this afternoon relating to this topic and other, similar, ones. xxx

          Liked by 1 person

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