10 November 2012
An 7 year old girl called Holly was on her swing in the garden. She sang songs with the birds that flew past her. Her golden hair blew in the wind, swaying back and forth. She was a jolly girl with beautiful freckles scattered across her face. Her baby blue eyes shone in the sun as she was constantly swinging on her swing tied on a tree that stood next to her slide. Her little brother crawled across the lush grass with a few flowers growing in random places in the garden. Her mum watched them with her husband. It was ever so peaceful.
30 years later when Holly was 37, she had already left home, and her brother was almost 30. Her mum and dad moved to the country side were they were happy, but even when other people moved in to their house, the swing was still there, another little girl swung on it, and she also sang sweet songs in the garden, staring at her little brother in the grass with her mum and dad. That mum was Holly.
Short Story 1 (Swinging Along) • Opuss № I