My Cupboard is a Space-Rocket

flight launch rocket astronaut

Photo by Pixabay on

My cupboard is a space-rocket.  Most of the time I can convince my intrepid astronauts to stick to the bottom-level/shelf which I keep empty.  But occasional trips to the moon require more space, so the clean towels end up on the floor as they branch across a second shelf.  When I come to investigate I am warned to stand back, because the fire from the rocket might burn me.  So I keep my distance, and we count-down to take-off together.

My bed is a mountain in Nepal.  I walk in and can see the little lumps moving under the sheets, as they hide in their ‘tent’ from Snow-storms and Yetis.

My lounge room is an ocean filled with Islands, that to an untrained eye might first appear to be rugs and couches.  The preferred method of movement across the seas is swimming, although an esky lid makes an excellent boat, a toy railway track doubling as an oar.  There is good fishing to be found on those floor-boards, though you must watch out for sharks and crocodiles. You find out about the said predator’s arrival, when the room is filled with shrieks and laughter, and everyone makes a run for it through the shallows.

My house is big and old.  It is sometimes clean and rarely tidy.  It is draughty and in winter we balk at the gas-bill (but turn up the central-heating anyway).  The best thing that can be said about the carpet is that it hides stains well.

One day an owner will knock it down and build a mega-mansion.  It is the story of all the other old houses in our street.

But until that day, it is our little Wonderland.



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