It was her favourite thing to do after work. She would sit back, put the headphones over her ears and find some music to suit her mood. Sometimes it would take a few tries, but then she would hit a smooth song that would be sweet to her ears.
She would relax and let the sounds carry her far away. She’d leave everything behind; her troubles, her thoughts, her dreams, her body. She would drift on a cloud of notes, high above everything, where nothing could touch her.
Having spent all his life in a little Scottish hamlet, Greg had the urge to see the world. He didn’t feel satisfied with touring the UK again, he wanted to see America, Africa, Aisa, the world. He wasn’t seeking anything; enlightenment, inspiration, he just wanted to see what else was out there.
There was one swing in the playground that no one ever sat on. Sometimes flowers, teddy bears and cards decorated the swing then were gone. Despite all the stories, one stood out the most; a little girl fell off the swing to her death. But no one knew the truth for sure.
The first thing she found herself craving was ice cream. It was weird but she couldn’t get enough, even at 3AM when she should have been sleeping. She had her excuses though and blamed the fact that she was going to have a summer baby.
In the mornings, he would sit in the tree and watch the village. At lunchtime he would come down, visit three houses for lunch then curl up somewhere warm and quiet for the afternoon. In the evenings, he strolled around till late then mewed at doors till someone let him in.