mystery

There's a house at the end of my street that's always been a bit of a mystery to me.

Now, my area admittedly isn't the most upmarket neighbourhood, but there's a particular house that catches my attention every time I walk past. Its window frames are old and wooden, painted black and slightly rotting away. The curtains (yellowing and moth-eaten)  are always drawn, and there's bubble wrap lining all the windows. Strange.

Well, stranger still is if you look up to the upstairs window the bubble wrap stops about halfway up the window, and through the gap you can see a huge rhododendron bush growing inside the house. Seriously. It's there growing in the upstairs bedroom with huge purple flowers.

Now, I've never seen anyone go in or out of that house, nor any evidence that anyone even lives there at all, but someone must go in there to water the plant.

Whenever I walk past I'm always hopeful that I'll see something. A face peering out of the upstairs window, a light on inside, or even a twitch of the curtains. So far, nothing.

For now, at least, it remains a mystery. I'll keep my eyes peeled.