It was a day like any other. (A rather cliched phrase; but for Sam - now 26 months into a full lockdown - it was undoubtedly true). And so it began just as the others did, with coffee, a quick check of social media, and a morning walk around his local area.
Sam's usual walk took a circular route. He would begin at the corner of a large field and follow the well-trodden footpath across to the canal; after which (depending on the weather) he would either head on into town or join the main road which led back to his house on Sycamore Street. Over the past year he had given in to the new pattern of his life and equipped himself with hiking boots and a proper coat, which was apparently suitable for all seasons. Despite his initial reluctance and hatred of following well-being trends, he had grown to love the walks, and had even (much to his own disappointment) begun to recognise bird song and the various wildflowers appearing on the route. He figured he was only a few months away from making nettle soup or dandelion honey, and the thought made him shudder briefly.
As his walks had got earlier (due mainly to crippling insomnia), so his meanderings often coincided with the arrival of the farmer who owned several of the fields he walked across. Being a city boy at heart, he didn't have much of a clue what farmers did. Nevertheless he had become quite well-acquainted with the various activities that went on throughout the year. Every morning without fail, the farmer spent a fair bit of time checking the boundaries of the fields, sadly not - as Sam might have imagined - in a smock, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of hay, but driving round the edges in a beat-up four-by-four. Sam had reflected on this and now, while he watched the farmer, undertook a daily mental boundary checking process of his own. This involved checking in with himself about his current position at work (stressful), the status of his romantic relationships (complicated), and the state of the latest government pandemic briefing (abominable).
On this particular day, the process was interrupted by the arrival of a large dog who appeared suddenly from the undergrowth. Seemingly overjoyed to find a potential walking companion, the dog alternated jumps of joy (with accompanying muddy pawprints) and yelps of excitement. Sam's initial pleasure at the dog's appearance quickly waned as the animal's exuberance threatened to ruin his new coat. He looked around in hope of seeing the owner, and it was at that point that something quite unusual caught his eye.
In the far corner of the field he could see the farmer's vehicle; not parked near the road as it usually was, but halfway up the bank to the canal. Beyond it were three figures, stood at the water's edge; two men and a woman, Sam guessed. They were gesticulating at the water and he could hear the sound of raised voices carried on the wind, although he couldn't make out the words. Sam felt a strange shift in the atmosphere, and the dog seemed to sense something strange as well; the animal cowered behind Sam and whined softly. As Sam shifted his gaze to the direction of the pointing arms he suddenly realised with astonishment what the group were looking at. On the horizon, and moving swiftly across the water appeared...
Part 2 by Andie Reynolds @ReynoldsAndie
https://professional-personal-nexus.blogspot.com/2021/02/storyjumpers-chapter-two.html
Part 3 by Peter Shukie @ShukieOne
https://shukiesweb.blogspot.com/2021/03/chapter-three-forgotten.html
Part 4 by Philippa Isom @PhilippaIsom
https://philippa-isom.medium.com/the-return-fbbb3eebeae1
Part 5 by Peter Venables @Venablespj
https://venablespj.wordpress.com/2021/03/19/they-said-love/
Part 6 by Julian Crockford @JulianCrockford
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1cSqJcOjTwcRJozSGAxGkq0jJyQGzNL8ACuBCQKjdsJM/edit
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