Life at No.22, Musings, Writing Stories

A Day like no other

Midweek, early morning, the cows were being milked. Meanwhile, back at the farmhouse, the empty porridge bowls were smeared with cream, the lunchbox lovingly filled, and a boy anticipated new adventures now that he was older than last week, with playmates unlike his usual ones.

At another farmhouse, the atmosphere was sombre, with a deep sadness descending over the girls if someone had asked, as they watched the car drive down the driveway, the boy waving from inside. Within the hour, the kitchen clock chimed as if to nudge them into action: they needed to find him and bring him home.

The two sisters, aged 4 and 3, were hand in hand, kicking stones along a 2-mile gravel road. Glancing around, trying not to be scared, and unsure of what to be scared of. Eventually, tired legs and inquisitive minds arrived at the school gates, screaming “Les -lie” over and over, with emphasis on the first three letters.

A face peered out of the classroom window, triggering a snowball effect. Unbeknownst to the sisters, their families were searching for them all over the farm until the phone rang. Instigating the arrival of the Ford Prefect, with Grandad Vickery at the wheel, who reassured the adventuring sisters that Leslie, their cousin, would see them after school.

The Trio – from left, Les, Diane and Susan.

21 thoughts on “A Day like no other”

    1. Not something the adults had to deal with daily, as we kids were to be seen and not heard. Most of us didn’t quite understand that concept. The girls were brave, adventurous and caring.

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