A house was born.
This house, which is currently in need of a good name, lived a good life in a good suburb.
The house saw families grow and die.
It watched the suburb change around it.
It watched a raliway line be laid and then removed.
It watched two World Wars.
It watched Prime Ministers and Premiers come and go.
It watched organised and disorganised crime.
It watched its friends be torn down, and young upstart apartment buildings go up in their place.
The house grew old, it grew tired. It wondered whether it would soon make way for young apartments.
The house was not ready to die, it wanted to live.
It reached through space and time and found what it needed. It found a young couple who wanted a well-aged house. A couple that did not want to live with a punk-apartment.
The old house and the young couple reached an agreement, they would renew the house, restore its glory and make it the envy of all the apartments and other elderly houses on the street. In return, the young couple would be warm, cosy, happy and have a place for their kittehs.
This is the story of that house and that young couple.
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