I was rummaging around in my drafts folder this morning and found this snippet that I’d scribbled down at some point. Unfortunately, I left myself no clues as to what ending I had in mind – or even if I had an ending in mind – so I guess this is a teaser until the rest of the story makes itself known.

Okay, so I’m just going to start here, at the beginning. But is it really the beginning? I guess it’s hard to know that there’s been a beginning until you’ve had an ending. Well, my ending was final. There was no mistaking that it was a definite full-stop, perhaps even an exclamation mark. It was certainly not a colon, semi or otherwise, and the idea it was a comma now seems quite laughable.

It all started last week when I was on my morning walk. I’d left my house at six-thirty and headed off towards the eastern end of the street as I do when the morning is warm. Two houses down, where Mr Michaelson lives, I veered off to my left, crossing over to Mrs Cromby’s house. Mrs Cromby is the one with the giant cactus, technically is a noxious weed that should be brought to the council’s attention, however, as she supplies all the neighbours with apricot jam from the tree in her backyeard, no one is wanting to point this out.

You may be wondering at this point about my insistence on referring to my neighbours in this most polite way. That is simply a reflection of both my age and theirs. Contemporaries as we are, we were all brought up to bypass first names for the dignity of surnames.

Anyway, I digress.

The sun, which by now had raised its crown above the horizon was glowing like a blacksmith’s iron, fresh from the fire pit. The rosellas and lorikeets, their tiny bodies warmed by the rising heat, were flitting from tree to tree, delivering their morning greetings in high-pitched, excited bursts.

As I was stepping up onto Mrs Cromby’s manicured verge, a very strange thing happened. Something that I have struggled to put into words, though of course, I will now try.

To be continued …??