BACK to the ORIGIN

One fine day, a man, called Rupert, was wandering around his childhood home village

Little, if anything at all had changed since Rupert and his parents left thirty years ago.

The playschool building was still there, as was the scout hut and the little church.

The Inn, the hall, the garage and all of the shops were there too.

Then there was the park, which Rupert used to play in with his friends.

All of the houses were in tidy condition still, though some of the doors and windows had been painted different colours.

Rupert’s childhood friends lived in some of those houses. Maybe a few of them still did.

Wonderful memories that brought back to Rupert.

He remembered the times when his friends invited him to tea, to play, to sleepovers and to birthday parties.

At one point, Rupert came to a small cottage, half-way up a lane.

The cottage had stone walls, a red door and a blue gate.

The garden was surrounded by a stone wall with

flowers on top and a cobbled path ran through the centre.

Rupert recognized the cottage very well.

It was his old cottage.