Lost

The sun beat down on the green grass speckled with daisies. Rosie loved summer days and today was out walking with her family at Blades Castle grounds. The park on the grounds offered plenty of excitement and Rosie, along with her older sisters Beth and Lucy sprinted to the play area. Rosie went straight to the aerial slide which for a change was free from kids eager to push their way on. Eyes wide with anticipation, Rosie positioned the circular seat under her and then kicked backwards to get the full momentum of the zip wire, the sound of air whooshed past her ears as she zoomed through the air.

After a few goes, Rosie got bored and looked for her sister Lucy. The park was a sea of endless kids running around, chasing each other, screaming and shouting to gain as much attention as they can. Rosie looked everywhere to find her sister. She spotted Beth first (it’s hard to miss her oldest sister who was as a thirteen year old looking too tall to be there). Rosie walked around looking in all directions trying to glimpse Lucy, her heart racing like a race horse. Finally she saw her high on the blue roped climbing frame waving at the top.

Relieved, Rosie went to join her sister, but before she started to climb, she noticed a boy sitting on the ground at the bottom of the climbing frame crying loudly. From the tears rolling down his cheeks which were mingled with dust and snot, Rosie felt sorry for him. Rosie approached the lad with concern.

“What is the matter?” Rosie asked lad. The boy lifted his head, looked at her through tear blurred eyes and blurted aloud “I’ve lost my Mummy!” Rosie sat next to him, put a comforting arm around him and said “Don’t worry! We will find her!” The soft words turned the sobs into sniffs as the boy started to feel more hopeful. “Come on…. Let’s see my Dad. He might be able to help!” Rosie led the lad over to the park bench where her Father sat smiling. “Hi Rosie! Are you enjoying yourself? And who is your new friend?” “I’m not sure what his name is, but he has lost his Mummy” Rosie replied. “I’m Luke”, the boy choked. “OK Luke, what does your mother look like?” Luke shrugged and then described just about every mother in the park. Both Rosie and her father scanned the park but could not see anyone searching for their lost son. Rosie’s face was a picture of worry. Eventually, on a picnic bench on the other side of the park, a mother sat alone. Rosie led Luke across who eventually ran to his mother yelling “Mum, Mum!”

Rosie’s father was about to explain that Luke was found lost and crying, when he noticed the tears in Luke’s mothers eyes. Holding Luke close, the mother whispered “I am sorry I lost you. I Love You”.

Rosie smiled!

New Shoes

It was my birthday today and for a present, my father was taking me shopping. Beth was wise to the fact that when shopping with her father, if she dragged him through countless stores looking at similar things at similar prices, he becomes more tired, moody and unresponsive. I made a bee-line straight to the shop and pointed out the wonderful shoes. The sleek high heels and the plain design of the low cut black leather really made them look dainty for her elongated feet.  Already I was tall for my aged and towered above classmates, but the extra heels would make me dominate the landscape even further. Nice to have people look up to you! After the banter about having no oxygen that high in those shoes, my father paid and I thanked him graciously!

As soon as I got home I went on Facebook, shared a picture of me wearing them to my friends Georgia and Lucy and then suggested we met in town the next week to do what we normally do (look in shop windows, sit on benches and giggle at the world walking past, perhaps show off a little when a cute guy walks past).   

We met at our usual spot outside McDonalds and I paraded my shoes gracefully, when suddenly the world span ever so quickly in a blur of colour like a kaleidoscope. Instead of standing outside McDonalds, Georgia, Lucy and I were standing in a muddy street. The air smelt of dust, dirt and cabbages which I admit is not my favourite of smells. A sign was squeakily swinging outside a nearby inn displaying The Cobblers Arms. The sky was grey and people were dressed in old fashioned dresses and suits with thick blankets wrapped around them.  Horses galloped the streets as all three of us stood motionless with our mouths gapping!

I took a step and the world whizzed around. This time instead of a dingy dirty street, we stood in a clean and bright room. Everywhere we looked was colour, but it was not the colour of bright furnishings and walls, it was the colour of millions of different sweets. Both the sight and the smell hit us all like a sugary hammer.  Bright balls and cubes and twisted coloured shapes, soft squidgy shapes of pink and white, some on sticks ready to be sucked to death whilst some sat with scoops ready to shovel into bags.

As I took two steps back in awe the world span again (which is totally unfair!) The world lurched to a stop and we was all back outside the same McDonalds we started at. Georgia and Lucy were exactly where they was before my world changed, admiring my shoes as I strutted. I stopped in confusion. What had just happened? Was it real? Was it my shoes? Can I do it again? Where will my shoes take me next? A wide grin grew on my face. I like my new shoes!

The Random Light

“Bloody random light!!” How was I supposed to know what it meant?” I cursed as I slammed through the double doors. The two police officers who had assisted me earlier wished me luck as I hastened away. Just moments earlier, I was buried in despair.

*The call had come whilst I was attending a two day conference on managing public estates. “Honey! It’s started!” How was it possible? Everything was looking fine and there was still another month to go! Eagerly I reached the Audi A5 to begin my journey.

My heart raced, and all thoughts were scrambled like eggs, as I exited the car park. Will he look like me? Will she look like me? Or will the child have its mother’s beauty? As I reached the car park barrier gate, my face straightened, as I suddenly wondered where the hell my parking token had vanished. Flushed, I felt around my pockets. “No, no, nooooo!” The sweat started to bead down my back as my hands returned back to each pocket I had previously searched. At last I found it, I slumped in my chair with relief, as I fumbled my token into the barrier before starting my eighty mile commute back to Oxford .

Images from the antenatal classes I'd attended flashed into my mind, like scenes from a horror movie, distorted into further gore, as I pictured my wife screaming in agony, alone. I drove faster and spurred my Audi on, like Ben Hurr on speed. I was twenty miles into the journey on the M4 when I recognised the light. It was low on the dashboard, and glowing red, I should have known by fact that it was red that it meant ‘death of car’.

My car fell silent apart from my tyres rolling on the tarmac and the wind which also was diminishing rapidly. The car behind was close to my car bumper, and flashing furiously which reminded me that as my car was stalled. Need to get out of the fast lane and onto the hard shoulder as quickly as possible.

After unsuccessfully trying to start the car I opened my car bonnet, and after looking, pacing, and looking and screaming, I finally crashed myself on the grass verge to drown in my fear and failure. Thankfully the police were passing and pulled over to check to see if whether I was in trouble.

And now, as I raced out of the hospital lift on the third floor, the thoughts of the nightmare journey were shunted far aside into insignificance for concerns for my family. “I am looking for my wife…. She's …. Labour… Mary…. Mary Merton?” The nurse understood my distress and calmly told me she was through the fourth door on the left.

I burst through the swinging door to see my wife, weary, sweaty, tired and smiling, with, what looked like an animated bundle of blankets, from which peered with eyes blue like Mary’s, the latest addition!

And the snow came down.

For a whole year it sat undisturbed in the garage like a relic from the winter before, sitting and waiting. And then the snow came down.

Alice (who preferred to call herself George), rushed downstairs that morning, flung the door wide open, breathed in the crispy cold air and regarded the virgin snow, untouched by humans, but littered with soft bird and cat prints. Yelling for her sisters, Alice quickly got herself dressed in her favourite woollies and put her coat on. “You’re not going out like that!” father said as he searched for gloves and hats. “Same for you two!” he said as he inspected the other two sisters attire, adding extra items to keep them dry and warm.

Alice rushed to the garage to get her special sledge. She had spent last year’s Christmas money on purchasing the ultimate sledge which she had christened “The Hawk”. Looks of envy came from her sisters as they collected their “butt boards”. Theirs were plastic and crude, with butt prints to sit on and a handle to hold, but The Hawk was a traditional sledge with metal runners, wooden body and a rope to either steer or hang onto for dear life.

 After a short walk the girls finally reached the bottom of the park and Alice’s eyes widened, a big smile stretched her face as she surveyed the scene before her. In the snow blanketed  park, kids were yelling and shouting as they propelled down the hill on anything they could find.

The girls made their way up the slopes as fast as they could to jump on their sledges, speed down and then do it all again.

It was before the fifth rundown that Alice got a wicked glint in her eye as she looked for ways to make sledging more thrilling.  “Look at that slope! Wicked! Let’s do it!” she exclaimed. Before her sister could yell “wait!”, Alice had launched herself head first on The Hawk.  The lack of tracks told her nobody had been down this side. Nobody was crazy enough. The wind whooshed past Alice’s ears as The Hawk quickly gained speed.”Wooo-hooo!”. Alice clung on, her eyes dripping wet tears from the cold wind. Then, “thhhhrack!!” the tree’s were closer together and fir branches were low enough to start hitting Alice.  She ducked her head as low as possible as branches snatched at her. There was no more whoops of joy as she battled to stay on. With her eyes closed and head down, Alice could not see the edge of the dead drop ahead of her. The branches cleared as the sledge jettisoned into the air and then tipped to a near vertical position. Down they fell until the slope evened out. A root stopped The Hawk dead in its tracks causing Alice to tumble head over heels in the thick snow. She sat, dizzy, frosted and cut from branches, but wore a grin. The Hawk really could fly!