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| This is the first drawing I made for this story. I quite like but it needs developing.... |
A few months ago, at the end of May, I walked home up the big hill after work. It was summer, but it didn't feel warm at all - the air was thick and spongey with clouds and it was threatening to rain.
I don't know why I felt so tired. The clouds seemed to be pressing down on my shoulders and wrapping themselves around my ankles, making each step slow and heavy. I could have fallen asleep on my feet, if only there had been some way to drift home.
I was alone and I wished somebody was with me to pull me up that hill.
It started to rain. Not heavy, fast rain, but the fine rain that makes lace in your hair and your clothes.
The only way I could keep walking was to imagine a giant arm wrapped around my shoulder, somebody gently coaxing me forward. I imagined strings around my feet, and birds tugging at them as we inched upwards. It made me feel better. As I became more tired, the arm around my shoulder turned into a huge wing, like a soft, fluttering umbrella.
Finally I reached my front door. A magpie was hopping around on the pavement. I fished around in my bag for my keys, and noticed that the rain had soaked my left side, but my right side had stayed dry. So I said 'hello' to the Magpie (it's bad luck not to); and then I said 'thank you', too, and went inside.
