Shadowed silhouettes danced inside the frosted glass windows of the Ham Arms, the fun pub at the corner of Raxmand Avenue and Queensward South, as Gemma, Kate and Gayle tottered by. Heels clacking along the pavement, they giggled loudly. Gemma clutched a white polystyrene box close to her chest, as Kate carried three clutch bags.
“Cut!!!” A voice echoed over the muffled music from inside the pub. The music ended suddenly, but the shadows continued dancing. “You three! What are you doing here? This street is closed.” A man ran over to the trio, carrying and waving a clipboard in one hand, with a small radio in the other.
“We’re going there!” Kate shouted, pointing in the direction of the first house on Queensward South. “The road isn’t closed to residents!”
“Very well. Hurry on by!” The man huffed. “We’ll have to start again once these three are…” he stopped speaking into his radio and looked at the three girls standing in front of him. “You! I don’t believe it. Whose idea is this? Some kind of joke?” The three girls shrugged and giggled again. Three other girls approached the group from the other side of the road, each looking not too dissimilar to Gemma, Kate and Gayle, in height, size and dress. The three new girls were baffled as Gemma started giggling yet again, swiftly followed by the other two. Without saying another word, they tottered off, and eventually walked up the garden path to number 97 after Gayle had a short struggle with the gate (she was trying to open it from the wrong side). Fits of laughter could be heard from the doorstep.
“You do know who they were?” The man asked the baffled threesome, who all shook their heads. “They are the ones you’re replacing.”
The Mansionic Perspective 
Would you like to leave a comment?