Image: – bookbadaboom/Pikabu
I’d followed her for a few days, and she gave me the slip every time.
Where did go and where did she come from?
An innocent looking child, school back pack,
I wondered what scholarly treasure she had stowed inside?
It was in the High street I’d spot her hurrying along, her long ponytail waving in the breeze and on her lips there always seemed to be a song.
She kept to the same track each, and you’d think it easy to follow after her.
But in the side street, next to the butchers, a lane way called, Butcher’s Chopping Block was where she gave me the slip.
I watched her enter the lane, I watched her negotiate the street kids hop-scotch and then she was gone.
I thought maybe the lane was like those places in the Harry Potter stories where people walked through walls and stuff like that.
But this was real life, such things were the work of fiction and imagination.
All this went on for a week, by the end, I had become a nodding acquaintance and enjoyed my daily jaunt following along.
On Friday, she stopped and turned to nod at me in the lane way and in the blink of an eye she was gone once again.
I stood in wonder, then the strangest thing happened, her head appeared through the wall, and with a mischievous wink, she was gone again.
That was the last time I saw of her.
I’m still not sure of what I saw in the laneway. But I go there most days, in case she’s there again.