Four years ago I was staying with my older brother in Newtown. It was a sharehouse, he lived with four others. One night we were having some drinks in the backyard and it was dark and I walked into the kitchen to get another beer and fell into a hole in the kitchen floor. There was a plank of wood that you were meant to use like a bridge but I didn’t see it and walked straight into the hole. There was no lasting damage but I was limping for a while. I was upset.
I never want to live in a house that run down.
Beer, dilapidated wood, musty old house.