Life at No.22, Musings, Writing Stories

A Day like no other

Suzanne

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.
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Published by Suzanne

I'm a lover of creativity and movement, expressed through photography, words, travel and sports. . . . . . .

42 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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    1. I loved the photo and was really happy to find it in relation to the story. Though I think they were a bit younger in this photo. I enjoy old photos, and some stories are worth sharing.

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  14. This rings brings back memories.
    My nearest brother in age started school before me, and from the age of three I frequently sneaked away from the garden and ran the half mile to his school. Apparently, my mother rarely noticed I was missing until someone turned up on the doorstep holding my hand!

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          2. Kids were far more street smart years ago. Most of us survived but to think of the same thing happening now is unthinkable. An excellent story and told so well. I loved the final reveal and the way you built up the story.
            Cheers from across the ditch!

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            1. Thanks very much for your feedback, Amanda. Much appreciated. Yes, there certainly was a lot of freedom given to us as young children back in the day. There were plenty of us children to tell tales if anyone went too far.

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              1. Actually I was thinking about the number of children around my house when I grew up and the contrast with my own children. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a newer suburb but there were loads of kids, next door, across the road and up the street, all potential playmates. It seemed different for mu kids. There were one or two families in the street and two didn’t come out to play, preferring I guess indoor activity.

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                1. We were in an established street, though just with two households there was 12 children and more around the corner. It is different for children now and working parents guilt at letting them have more than what is needed.

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                  1. The kids here are mostly spending time indoors but occasionally ride their bikes or scooters in the street and wirking parents has definitely had an effect. It is sad that the streets are devoid of kids racing home made go karts and making their own fun.

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