narrative glimpse #1

My feet feel snug as the warmth of my grey boots prevents the cold from sneaking in. The soles crunch the stone pavement of my front garden whilst I survey the bricked horizon. Bleak terrace cottage houses lean on each other looking fast asleep and the length of the road seems endless. It reminds me of a dream where you walk forever on a treadmill. Walking for miles but not going anywhere. Only sadly continuously revisiting and reliving the same scenery of life. Mirrored through the puddles on the roads are snapshots of the dark sky. It looks prettier when photographed at different angles happily showing off its vastness. I wrap my scarf tighter round my neck and chin and bury my nose deep; hoping that the cold smell would disappear. This darkness is odd at this time. It causes me to crave the comfort and warmth of my bed. To fluff up my pillow and dive into sleep bliss. If only. Reaching inside the house I skilfully drag the bulky pushchair out over the step. Its bright green colour is refreshing and foreign against the backdrop of the grey and brown tones. Singing baby babble awakens the sleeping houses with a sigh; her unrecognisable tune sounds welcoming and cute. If only it could bring out the summer and warmth; transforming the darkness into sunlight. Her little face appears out from her pink puffy coat; she is smiling and happy to be outside. I usher out my son with his autumn brown colour scheme and oversize grey knitted hat. He clambers out trying to grip the door frame for support whilst refusing to let go of his spiderman that daddy brought him. His expression looks grim as he looks at the sky and his bottom lip pushes out in a sign of protest. I zip up my jacket against the cold and double check that scarfs are wrapped tight and hats are covering ears. The endless road awaits and we gladly accept its habitual involvement in our morning routine.