Writing for Fun
August 2021
The house of her dreams - Lynn Gale
The tantalising aroma of a roast lamb dinner would greet Henry when he came through the door.
She had everything prepared, spending hours cleaning and polishing. The house looked wonderful, clean and sparkling, with freshly picked flowers in a vase on the table.
She loved her beautiful home so much. This truly was the house of her dreams.
A state of the art kitchen with a split-level oven, wine fridge and black granite island. Their bedroom with its creamy white en-suite and, of course, the long living room with the double doors leading out onto the landscaped garden.
When Henry comes home with his usual bunch of flowers for her, she will greet him with a glass of the best red wine. He would kiss her tenderly on the lips and whisper, ‘I love you so much.’ After twenty years of marriage and four children, the romance was still as strong as ever.
Strolling out to the picture-perfect garden, she plucked some mint off the plant for the lamb. Settling down in the swing seat, she rocked backwards and forwards breathing in the sweet smell of jasmine. A satisfied smile spread across her face, as she watched the setting sun throw long shadows across the lush green lawn, over the neat bushes and darkening the new rockery she had constructed in the corner.
The shrill sound of the morning alarm disturbed her out of the pleasant dream. Roll Call, a harsh voice called over the speakers. ‘Come on, ladies, rise and shine.’
‘I see we have a new one today,’ a prison officer turned to her colleague, ‘Looks like a timid sort. What's she in for?"’
‘That's Martha; her husband came home drunk to the slum they lived in every day and beat her senseless.’
She stabbed him ten times with a knife she was preparing dinner with, burying him under a pile of bricks in the backyard.’
When asked why she finally snapped after twenty years of abuse, she replied, ‘He said the house was a mess.’