Ramble
Prompt: use these phrases to write about a place or setting
Brown, corduroy sofas
Undulating green hills
Warm sun streaming in through stained glass
Shiny, polished timber floors
The way it runs
The house was nestled between two green hills. Ramble was its name. Some said it was a peculiar house. But to us it was home.
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Thinking of it now, through the eyes of an adult, it was a strange mish-mash of contradicting features. As if a bunch of architects had sat around a table, thrown ideas into a bowl and pulled them out at random.
In truth, that wasn’t far off how Ramble came to be. My parents were not architects, they were dreamers. They flitted from project to project, netting fleeting ideas like butterflies. You could see that in the house — their thoughts flowed with them from room to room, from time to time.
The living room was warm. The heart of the house. Pillowy brown, corduroy sofas. I used to imagine myself sinking deep into the cushions and emerging days later with tousled hair and no memory of my adventures.
The kitchen was stark. Sleek metallic benches and clean, crisp lines. Functional and sterile.
The hallway was an open-armed welcome. My favourite place. My dad designed the stained glass panels, based on my mum’s favourite flower. I used to spend afternoons curled up on the rug by the front door, examining the warm colours refracting on my arms and legs. This was home.
