Blues and the morning

A big thank blippers, for taking the time to comment on my 730th yesterday.

The morning light these days is beautiful again. Only until the maid arrives. Then everything begins rattling. Everything seems to be on the move. There is a bit of frenzy and the day seems to begin. But before it all, there is stillness. And quiet.

There are two houses. Neighbours. Both are large and three storied.

The older one is beautifully maintained. It has a large wall around its perimeter, it is freshly painted with a coat of pale yellow. And a red wooden door with vines and climbers curling over it. There are plants lined outside the wall too on a clean pavement. The door briefly opens. Inside there is a large courtyard, mostly a garden, well maintained with lots of personal touches. The stone path leads up to the patio framed by arches and pillars. There are chairs and tables. The smell of freshly brewed coffee is in the air.

The second house begins right where the pavement ends. It seems imposing, intimidating rising before you all of a sudden, rather than easing you into the scene. It is painted in dark shades and concealed by closed windows, and doors that have iron railings to allow very little light in. It seems more like a fortress in contrast to its neighbour's inviting appeal. The walls inside are dark blue and green that further absorb the little light which enters through the virtually non-existent gaps.

Something doesn't seem quite right on the surface. It leads to questions.