Sunday, 24 March 2013

Pig tunnels

I'd entered the living room at my mums house and found my dads best mate sitting in the armchair. It was great to see him as he passed away a few years ago now. He was happily chatting and had a football match in the TV. He looked well.
I nip to the lavatory and for some reason sit on the toilet with the door open which has a direct view of the front door along the hallway with the stairs by the entrance to the first floor.
I'm trying to do my business but realise I still have my trousers on at which point my dad walks into the hallway from upstairs ready to go to work. Having been disabled in his later life it's great to see him looking fit and well.

I'm next in the kitchen of a woman I don't know, her whole house is full of clutter and the exit into the garden is blocked by items up against the back door.
I tell her I will clear all of her house but I first need to feed her Guinea pigs that were in her garage. I squeeze past the obstacles and find that she has a box that they live in which is very small.
From the box is an elaborate network of tunnels that the pigs have created themselves. Spanning miles the tunnels cover her whole garden and eventually come up into her living room.



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