Helen Redfern

Keep On Walking

It's all too easy when the weather is wet and the day is dark and you have a grizzly teething baby, to think staying indoors is for the best. Yesterday when my lovely friend offered to take my son to school I took her up on the offer. Then, as it was still drizzling at home time, she also brought him home.

By about three in the afternoon my mood was starting to sink. Lower and lower. By the time my husband came home he described it as reminiscent of the dark days. And it was. But it was only for a few hours whereas in the dark days it was all the time.

This morning I was determined, whatever the weather, to go out and get some fresh air. To put my best foot forward and walk my son to school. So I did. So far, I'm still feeling fresh from the walk, the cold is still clinging to my skin. I feel positive, I've had an idea for a blog post (this one) and a few floaty ideas about some articles. I have a coffee on the go and my eggs have just poached. The baby needless to say is asleep.

So far so good.

Walking is magical.

A (very) short story

Imagine a person. She has a bit of a tummy from a pregnancy some seven months ago along with short hair (don’t look too close or you’ll see the grey) and black rimmed glasses. She must be pleased to see you as she’s waving.

But then. Wait a minute.

On closer inspection you find she isn’t waving. What is she doing?

You look where she is. In a house. With ironing, clutter, washing, nappies and recycling.

As you peer closer you do a double take. Surely those aren’t eyes? And a mouth too? It's opening...Good grief. It can’t be.

The house is turning into a monster.

She isn’t waving. She’s signalling for help. The house is about to eat the girl, whole.

Gulp.