Lost? How come? – 12.29 – actually, now 12.38

I saw the woman come towards me and stoop down. Suddenly it seemed wrong and turned to run. I went as fast as my little legs would carry me  and straight into the open arms of an older man. Older than my Daddy. He was trying to catch me too. I leapt back. The soles of red sandals flapping on the ground, my little content dress flying.  I ran back, but there she was again, her arms outstretched, stooping down, hurrying towards me. Him or Her?

I remembered what my mummy had said. Don’t talk to strangers. Who were these people who wanted to catch me. My breath caught in my throat. Please legs, work. Not like in my dreams where I always get stuck, glued to the spot.

And then I new. I bolted out into the street and down the hill. Quick as lightening. Through the legs and bags of people struggling up the hill, I hurtled down. I could her shouting out, coming after me. Her shoes clip clopping, mine flap flapping. And I could hear a wailing, a screaming and then I realised it was me. Why was she chasing me? And how would I ever find my Daddy again? How did I lose them? Didn’t they want me? Where was I?

I  ran and ran down hill, hurtling through the people who turned to stare at the four-year-old being chased by the young woman.

And then, through the crowds, his strong shoulders, his kind face, worried, running too, up the hill. I leapt into his arms and burried my face in his thick neck, wrapping my chubby legs around his  chest. Giants hands held me tight, rubbed my curls.

My Dad.