A_Wedding_Lunch

A Wedding Lunch The house was well endowned with all the trimmings one might expect of such a bejewelled inheritance. The acherage was respectable yet delicate, producing plants of previously unseen characters. From the corners of the brittanic gardens grew nettles, foxtrot and matterhorns, wreathing in the torrent as they writhered and tethered in an endless myriad of questionable integrity. The house was a tourist abacus of preservation, a tudor style monster visible from the south exits of London, soaring one hundred and twelve metres high. It appeared box like from such distances, criticised as an example of how far one can go, and how the domestic height limits around London were apparently not set in steel. Inside was riddled with oak and walnut skirtings, polished and tapered with the finest of pleasantries. Masonry and antlership ‘hung high’ crowning the veneered cherrywood instalments, serving as fraudulent apertures to the latticework of hallways. The etchings of the late countess lay abrupt above the stairs, watching from the shadows amongst a feast of pecan framework. High amongst the triforium lived a family of third generation Danish pigeons who made use of chanderleerettes as convenient perchings, their shit, raining down daily onto the checkerboard hastings, one, pies, came, yet, style, now, charlotte, walked, vivian, time, pigeons, london, house, high, hands, fields, endless, delicate, crust, amongst, oven-ready, long, hung, yellow, yapping, writhered, wreathing, wouldn’t, wishful, way, watching, waltz, walnut, visible, violins