Ill and off on long term sick, Sadie had quickly got bored being at home all day. One morning, going into the box bedroom, now a storage room, Sadie found a box which contained books from her university days, now fifteen years in the past.
Inside, she found classic literature; Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Frankenstein, Robinson Crusoe, The Monk and many more titles.
Sadie smiled remembering those too fast gone by days. Thinking, I’ve more time now to read and enjoy them, Sadie selected one of the books and began turning the yellowing pages.
It was Monday morning again. She lay in bed, having slept badly due to all the troubling thoughts. The alarm went and she turned it off. No work again today, she was too tried to face the world. She wondered if there was anything worth living for now.
I stopped the car too desperate to find a proper place and ducked into a field. I checked there was no one around then fumbled with my clothes. Squatting down, I happened to look across and the breathe caught in my throat.
Three figures were standing in the middle of the field watching me. I felt heat creeping across my skin, my knuckles turned white clutching hard on my bunched pants. There was nothing I could do and nowhere to hard.
Finishing, I redressed and thought about going over to apologise and explain I had a water works infection and couldn’t help it.
I half turned away before swallowing my embarrassment and striding across the field. I could feel my heart racing, my pulse beating loudly in my ears and my face must have been beetroot red with heat.
As I got closer, puzzlement crossed my mind, these figures didn’t look right. They were too still but perhaps they were in shock about seeing my accidentally exposure?
Closer still and the realisation hit me. I laughed loudly and went right up to them.
‘Wicker statues! Not real people at all!’ I cried out.
It was the trip of a life time. A world way from what they had always know. The honeymooners, married three days ago and now celebrating. They walked hand in hand, barefoot on the soft sand beach, pointing out that sight or this.
Strange animals filled the air with noise and scampered around as the sea lapped boats and the shore. A warm wind stirred the dry air and rattled the palm trees. Native voices in the distances called as fishermen returned from their morning’s work.
The honeymooners basked in the sun, relaxing. Lost to everyone but each other.
The children called it the Witch’s House and told tales of a horrible old woman who kidnapped people and used them in potion making. There wasn’t any truth behind it but seeing the state of the house the tales were easy enough to believe.