A poem about Lego, for Suzie Poll

I love playing with lego
There are all sorts of sets.
In lots of sizes and colours
it’s better than having pets

Poppies

Now is the time to remember them,
that special time of year.
They that gave their lives for us
so that we do not live in fear

The Homecoming

Sally stared at the front of the house, a normal terraced house. Cracked and peeling, the once vibrant red paint on the door certainly
added to the overall look of distress.  As she slid the key into the lock, flakes of paint, caught by the sleeve of her coat, dropped to the floor.  Fully
expecting the door hinges to groan, she was almost disappointed when the door opened smoothly and silently.  A small drift of junk mail hindered the door’s ability to open fully, but Sally squeezed through the gap, closing the door softly behind her.

Inside the small hallway, Sally took stock. It felt strange to be in this house again, after all that had happened. She almost felt she had come full circle; she had been born in this house. She knew that a door to the right would take her into the lounge, with an archway leading to the dining room and kitchen. Stairs to the left led up to the three bedrooms and bathroom.

She didn’t feel the need to look around the house, she had lived here for so many years she knew every crack and crevice and more than a few of the secrets this pile of bricks held.  Half of her wondered why she had returned here, not just to this area, but to this house. She hadn’t told the estate agent she had lived in this house. She hadn’t said anything much. You didn’t need to really; no one cared anymore. She had made vague noises when he had asked if she knew the area.

She took the letter out of her handbag. She had written and re-written it many times. She wasn’t sure who she had written it for now. Her Father had died the previous year and she hadn’t spoken to her brothers since she left the area over fifty years before. But still, she knew the letter would explain everything. She looked at the envelope sadly. “To whom it may concern”, so cold and impersonal, but did she deserve any better? Propping the letter against her handbag, she opened the bottle of tablets she had taken from her coat pocket. She had carefully worked out that the small bottle held more than enough tablets for her purpose. She had left nothing to chance, not this time. Opening a bottle of water Sally began taking the tablets, one by one. Only when she had taken the last tablet, did she lie down. Closing her eyes she finally allowed herself to relive what had happened in this house more than five decades before.

She had been just 16, full of the joys of youth. She was home early, she couldn’t remember why. She wasn’t really sure that it mattered anymore. She had let herself in, feeling proud that she was allowed a key to the front door.  Expecting the house to be empty, she was amazed to see her Mother in the kitchen and even more amazed that she was in the arms of a man who wasn’t her Father. The man, she never found out who he was, left quickly, her Mother saying that she would sort everything out. Her Mother had tried to explain to Sally, but Sally couldn’t hear the words. All she could see, like a loop of film, was her Mother kissing another man. She turned to leave the kitchen, dazed, her world shattered, when her Mother grabbed her arm. Sally acted without thinking and grabbing the nearest thing to hand, she lunged at her mother. Only as her Mother gasped did Sally realise what she had done. She had grabbed a large kitchen knife and it was now sticking out of her Mother’s neck. The blade was red, as red as the front door, Sally thought numbly. Her Mother reached out to Sally for help, but Sally backed away, shaking her head.  With more calmness than she felt, Sally slowly walked out of the house; she would come back later, back when her Father would be at home. She knew that she was leaving her Mother to die.

There had been police cars when she returned home.  Police cars and questions. No one had asked her if she had killed her Mother, no one had reason to think she would. So, for over five decades she kept her peace, moving away as soon as she was old enough. But now, now she was back. To give her life for  the one she took so many years ago.