This story backdates to 2004 – so forgive me for any sloppiness – it was written a LONG time ago!!!
The boy and girl walked hand in hand across the meadow. The sight that met their eyes as they crossed over the hill was truly breathtaking and they stopped to savour it for a moment.
The land was thickly wooded and shafts of sunlight trickled through the leaves, giving the whole area a magical glow. Birds twittered in the trees and small animals could be seen scampering along on the thickly-leafed floor of the forest.
Faint sounds of traffic could be heard from the other side of the woods, but they were merely a muffled growl, easily overtaken by the music of nature echoing through the woods.
The boy and girl started forward again, picnic basket swinging merrily by their side.
They eventually made their way to a small cottage nestled amongst the trees. It looked as if it had been there forever and since it was known that the current occupant had lived there her entire life, and three generations prior had also settled there, the age of the cottage could be guessed at several hundred years old.
It had weathered well, however, and was still a pretty building, with vine-covered walls and a thick, thatched roof.
The youngsters knocked on the door and entered quickly. “Nonny!” they called. But no answering greeting met their ears.
“Nonny! We have your lunch!” Still nothing.
They looked around a little, until in the gloom inside the cottage they found Nonny.
She was seated in her old rocking chair, but it was quite still. Her arm hung loosely over the edge of the chair, and she looked as if she was asleep. They crept up to her.
They gently shook her, but she was beyond waking up. The old lady had died, peacefully, in her favorite place and with a contented look on her craggy countenance.
With a deep sigh, the boy took a shawl from a nearby hook and covered the old lady’s face. Then the two youngsters turned to leave for the last time. They looked at each other and smiled tiredly.
It had taken time for poison to work and this tough old bird had kicked on for ages.
But finally she was gone. The cottage could be knocked down without compunction, and the freeway, its throaty growl heard from over the hill, could finally cut through the woods.
Progress could finally be made.