This was going to be a post discussing mental health, depression, all the challenges that go with it. However, I started to put my thoughts together, and decided that it can wait until another time. Instead, I chose to remember other things. You know, the people and life experiences that inadvertently shape what we become, what we feel…things that form our characters.
Today, I will write about a dear friend, Natalie Wilson.
(L-R) Natalie and I, circa 2008.
We grew up in the same little east-Norfolk village, but we did not always get on. Natalie was a very girly, gentle kid, whereas I was completely boisterous and decidedly un-girly. If we did ever have a playground game together, it was almost guaranteed that it wouldn’t stay civil for long! However, we ended up becoming kindred spirits through our high school days.
I remember us at fourteen in the year 2000, sitting round Natalie’s house. She had Pokemen Red on her Gameboy Color, I had Pokemon Blue. Together, we’d sit there with our little transfer cable exchanging Pokemon, and lamenting on how “life sucks”. We had had such high hopes for the millennium, hoping that our fortunes would magically change. Who were we kidding?
School was crap – boys definitely didn’t fancy us, the so-called “popular girls” took the piss out of us…yes, the coming of a new century had definitely shafted us… Continue reading
The blog/writing mission has been quiet as of late. I was putting my sole focus on the Spring semester of my second year of university, amongst other things.
This story I am going to share with you is called “Lucy’s Afternoon” and was produced as a short story piece for one of my course modules.
Lucy is a quiet, retiring mother, watching her son playing in the garden with his cat, whilst she does the washing up. She is shocked out of her routine by what she witnesses.
Thank you for your time.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Lucy yawned, flexing her fingers against the softness of the rubber gloves. Hoovering done, ironing done, just the dishes to do now. Lather, rinse, repeat. Another shift at work tomorrow morning too. She looked outside at the brightness of the garden and felt sad at the thought. The yellow of the Marigolds made her arms look pasty. She forgot the last time that she had the chance to do some sunbathing. Possibly, when Harry was a toddler, back when Neal spent more time at home. She recalled sitting on the chequered picnic blanket and enjoying the warmth on her skin, Harry gurgling beside her with his little sun hat. She wished he could stay that way forever, with his chubby legs and toothless grin.
Harry was playing outside with Tiggy, laughing as he trailed a piece of rope through the tall grass. Tiggy, eyes bright and wide like saucers, stalked her prey with the utmost concentration.
“Get the snake, Tiggy, don’t let it bite me!”