Hobb's Cottage: a Short Story
“Floorboards creak and sigh. The time for recompense is coming. Hobb’s Cottage was tiny even by Polkerryn’s standards, a seventeenth century dwelling with barely two rooms, but from the moment Phoebe knew it was up for rent she wanted it passionately. It didn’t matter that the cottage had stood uninhabited for months or that the windows were frosted with grime. Every evening on her way to work in the village pub she would stop at Hobb’s to breathe in the heady perfume of the wild roses and rampant honeysuckle and to dream.It wasn’t the prettiest cottage in the village. There were no frothing hanging baskets on the porch and the garden was tangled with thick briars and bindweed but Phoebe loved it regardless. She adored the walls that leaned at crazy angles and dreamed of planting swathes of nasturtiums and curling up in the window seat to drink wine while the evening sun dipped its toes into the sea. She couldn’t quite explain it but there was something about the neglected cottage t...hat had wound its way into her heart just as the dog roses had twined their roots into the crumbling garden walls. And now was to be her home.MoreLess
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