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Gathering Gloom…

The first time Daughts and I walked to the dead end of an unpaved road it was a July evening, still duskily light but too late to enter the dark, strange woods. I didn’t want to get lost along pathways Edward Scissor Hands may frequent.

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Ringing…

As I grew older I began to recognize the telephone as an honorary door in our house. We were never allowed to answer it, I don’t think I knew our telephone number until I went off to college and was instructed to give ‘three rings’ when I’d arrived safely.

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Dinner Date…

I told her I had looked out of a train window once on our way back to school from some outing in London and said wistfully, as the acres of countryside rushed passed,
“Imagine someone owning all that land…” to which she had chirped,
“I do…”