Nose pressed against the polished glass,

Fingertips touching, wishing

Those pictures into existence,

Despite the numbers, 1.25 million,

Seven hundred thousand, five acres,

One paddock and two tennis courts,

This is the thing that dreams are made of.

What would it feel like to step inside

Just pretend to be interested?

That rush of hot air and a sickly smile

From a salesman ready for the kill.

Whenever I go somewhere that is known to have high property prices, I always find myself gravitating towards the estate agents – you know, just for a little look.

I don’t know where the fascination comes from; whether it’s looking at the pretty pictures in the window, seeing how many bathrooms there are or just which one is the most expensive? Whatever it is, I do find myself salivating over those windows.

One day, I’ll be able to sashay my way inside one of those shops and ask for an agent to show me around the house that is worth more than a million. Although, it is far easier to do the vacuuming in a one bedroom flat, so perhaps I’ll stay where I live now after all.

Much Love

Rachel xx