Driveway

The new houses show their faux historically gabled roofs over the 5 foot tall thistles and ragwort. Sitting on the swing it is possible to swing high enough to see the whole new estate laid out below you.

Behind you is an empty field with big red ‘Polite Notice: Do not feed the horses’ signs fixed to the barbed wire fence. Presumably this is the paddock referred to int he cul-de-sac named Paddock View.

Don’t worry, soon the native trees we’ve planted six rows deep and 30 cm apart will screen this from view. At which point we can tear down the barbed wire and build an identical cluster of cul-de-sacs.

The roads paved with the same thin red brick that the detached houses are clad in. The whole private road is your driveway.

An Englishman’s home is his driveway.

An Englishman’s driveway is his castle?

Shiny, gleaming clean black or white cars are parked by those for whom the road is private.

One individualist has a dark blue car, they will probably move out soon.

Sandwiched between the railway lines and the M11 corridor it really is so convenient to get to work and to the shops. No one uses the brand new footpath and bridge over the river, it’s already clogged with weeds.

Luckily, it’s only a Permissive Footpath, we’ll build on that soon too.

The edges of each house is still so sharp the whole estate looks like it has been photoshopped onto the space. The bricks look wallpapered on. If it rains the houses will dissolve, but there will be nowhere for the rain to drain away to as the driveway extends from the front of the house to the point where the cul-de-sac joins the A road. The dissolved houses will clog the drain and the square mile of red brick driveway will be inches underwater.