for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt.
“It’s certainly a step up from your last place Seb,” I said as I climbed my way to his front door.
“Indeed it is old fellow,” he said, my pun having fallen on deaf ears. “You can leave your shoes here in the vestibule”. He pointed to a worn rubber mat in the porch. “Let me give you a grande tournée of Manoir de Sebastian”.
He flung open a door. “The parlour”, he announced, “or living room to you”.
We moved on. “The salle a manger,” he said leading me to a somewhat cramped dining room, “and here, the cookhouse or kitchen as you’d call it with a scullery sector”. It just looked a few wonky cupboards an ageing cooker and a sink to me!
We climbed the stairs – sorry, companionway to the landing – no, the gallery. He threw open a bedroom door. “My boudoir”, he cried “and to the right, its ensuite”. All I saw was a single bed and a washbasin!
We went on to the ‘guest accommodation’ (teeny weeny spare room) and the ‘pissoir’ (I stifled a giggle as he showed me his bathroom).
Minutes later we were back downstairs. He opened the tradesmen’s entrance, back door to you and me, bid me farewell and closed it behind me. Thank goodness that was over. Unfortunately in my eagerness to escape, I’d forgotten my shoes!