The sun shining in the cave opening brightens the whole place. Sunshine, in the worst of circumstances, cheers all things. What a great invention! However, looking round into the hidden depths the environment is far more gloomy. Cobwebs hang in the corners, whole generations of spiders have made their homes here undisturbed. The dank air is suffused with the odour of ageing onion leftovers, the traditional British foodstuff curry, and a wide variety of human foulers that need not be mentioned here!
The rusting washing machine, in good working order until the handle came off, sits sullenly in a recess. The trouble and stress required to have running water installed, or electricity and gas knows no equal. Utility companies, especially privatised money greedy ones, have no concern for 'service' of any kind. A disgrace began by Maggie Thatcher and her money obsessed friends! What passes for a kitchen lies deep under a crust off fallen breadcrumbs, left over pasta, tattie peelings, empty rusting tins, and so on. All coloured by a variety of splashes of sauces which now energetically are turning a bright green with the mould. Maybe I should start a penicillin factory?
The video recorder, which doesn't record, the wireless, with an out of control volume knob, and the broken community of PC's lie covered in a thick gray dust. Newspapers, colour supplements and half read books cover the floor. Mice hold parties in one of the tunnels to the left. Beasties of all sort crawl, wriggle and slime their way around the walls.
It's true what they say. There is no place like home! Well, when the sun shines.
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