Day 3

The next day was a bright wintery day. She looked across at the trees in outline against a blue-grey sky. Seagulls dived and squawked. A helicopter languidly slid across the skyline. Down in the river swans and a crane watched the river ebb and flow.

Against the skyline, cranes of another sort began to raise their heads, waking from the slumber of the festive season. Metal leviathans slowly raising their heads and surveying their realms.

She tapped in ‘Accident on A614’ and stared at the phone. There was hardly a mention. Only a brief report in a local paper which said ‘The junction of the A1 and A614 was briefly closed last night because of a crash involving five people. All are still in a critical state.’

She sighed. Couldn’t have been so bad, after all they are still alive and so hopefully they will get to have a good New Year after all. Her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since last year.

Other news? Some entrepreneur was going to try and start trips to the moon. The NHS was to get an injection of funds and the ambulance service reported a ‘more quiet than usual New Year’s Eve’. Some z lister celebrity had gone into therapy. Rail fares would be going up.

She tiptoed across the cold floor and put the kettle on and made some toast. She bit into the buttery bread and her eyes closed and her memory took her back again to the bungalow on the edge of the forest. The doorbell rang.