It felt like an invasion. Over the past few months, objects that were familiar to her had started to disappear. In their place were the results of Barbara’s various evening classes.
A bizarre painting had replaced the printed watercolour that had hung in the front room.
Its frame was smaller than the previous picture and exposed a rectangle of bright wallpaper around it edges where the sun had not previously reached.
Paula discarded it as tat. And it was this tat that lined the windowsills. Also, a lop-sided sculpture had replaced a faded photograph of her mother and father on the mantelpiece above the false fireplace.