3 One week later

One week later I drove back.

We had fixed an appointment with the houseseller.
But that day my wife had to work and the kids had school.
So, I went there on my own.

We did searche the web for more information.
But we had not learned much.

One recognizable photo and a notary office announcement saying:

“Mansion for sale,
Early 19th century (year unknown)
Two floors, to be renovated
Surrounding 3 hectares, “

– well, that was far from everything.

The rusty fence resisted creakingly.

I wanted to have a look around starting with the exterior.
Trying to make my way about the house took the effort of getting through the high grass of this sloping garden.
– looked like a cube with a roof on top of it
– three windows on each side and above, there were again three.

I had to watch where I put my feet.
Over time, recognizable and unrecognizable objects had gained their place in the midst of vegetation.
A rusty bike was almost unrecognizably swallowed by ivy.
And beyond, the colorless carcass of an indefinable rig jut out of the wildlife growth.

The outside walls, coated by an undetermined color.
showed here and there dark red bricks .
Angular clouds were reflected by cracked windows…

This house did not seem at all wat we saw last week.
It had lost almost all of its glory.
Now it made the courage of the bravest man sink.

Suddenly there was a soothing noise – somelike a waterfall –
I stumbled in the direction of the rumor and discovered a row of poplars raging in the wind.

From out of nowhere a woman’s voice was heard.
She shouted something incomprehensible – then joyful cries followed –
– Pok! … Pok! – a tennis game?
A hull – there an arm, and running legs showed through the green.
The back of a head appeared and disappeared immediately.
Whits of white flickering through the bushes at every move of the players