Mrs. T walks very well for a woman of 82. She is a happy old lady. Whenever she smiles her eyes disappear into the creases of her face and her mouth cracks into an enormous, denture-filled grin. Her hair is hidden from the elements, wrapped in a silken scarf bar a few soft grey curls bouncing over her wrinkled forehead. She is short, but well proportioned and has a slight curvature to her back but it causes her no trouble save for a few aches and pains.
Every Tuesday Mrs. Tyrell starts her well rehearsed trip around the local town. She pops into see the baristas in her favourite coffee shop. They know her order as she always has a traditional English tea with a handmade shortbread biscuit in the window seat - so she can watch the world go by. Once she’s enjoyed her morning cuppa and rested her feet from the walk from the bus stop, she makes her way to buy the birds their dinner.
The little shop she visits for bird food has always been her preferred destination. It’s a little dusty, teeming with bits and bobs and a little untidy at times, but its well loved. The staff are always willing to help and are grateful to see she is still well - greeting her good morning and good day. They are quite fond of this old stranger, enjoying her stories and they always look forward to seeing her. The weekly £8.57 means Mrs. T. has completed her shopping for the week. She bids the shop workers a fond farewell and wanders down to the bus stop to catch the bus home.
At home Mrs Tyrell is quite lonely. Her favorite pass time is watching the birds enjoy their dinner from the comfortable warmth of her conservatory. Of course she is always accompanied by another cup of tea and is never without her trustee trolley, which rarely leaves her side. It’s a very old, tatty tartan trolley, but it has served her well over the years. Its mostly for storing her shopping, but on her tired days it steadies her weary legs and doubles as a fantastic cup holder, for transporting tea without spillage to her wicker seat by the conservatory window. When looking upon at this delicate lady, sat in her creaky window side chair. You wouldn’t dream of her tales. But if you spoke to Mrs T. she would tell you the stories of her well travelled younger years.
..to be continued.
___________________________To see why I have taken to writing go here.
P.S. I welcome constructive feedback. If you have the time do drop me a comment, i'd love to hear from you. I'm new to writing - I was never any good at it in school - so I'm taking the long practised path of learning by doing. ^.^
Thank you :)
This is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination of use in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.