There's this house I pass a couple of times every week. It's yellow with a black roof and white details. I think a family of four lives in it. The kids I've seen in the garden haven't started school yet.
There's something special about the house. Do you see it? Can you feel it?
I just want to go and knock on the door and ask if I can take a look around. I want to find out how the floors are connected and what all the nocks and corners are. How that extra little room at the end is being used. If the stairs are squeaky. If there's at least one comfy chair placed under one of those windows. What kind of wallpaper they have in the different rooms. Whether it's possible to lie in the bathtub and watch the sky or not.
And the house makes me want to write. I see myself, on the first visit, trying out different rooms and spaces to find the perfect spot for my desk, my chair, my typewriter (yes, this house requires a typewriter and not a laptop), a couple of shelves for reference literature and favourite books, my comfy chair and a side table for my cup of tea. Or bowl of ice cream.
I see myself becoming a great writer in that house.
What do you see?