Story Pause These stories are from me at Kitchen Table Mindfulness and created for all ages,
From the Arthur stories for the very young to the older themed tales.
I hope they help provide a relaxing pause,
A moment to breathe in stillness and the invitation of restful sleep.
So settling down,
Finding a soft blanket or some warm ground and let's begin.
A Celtic Tale The thistles scratched his ankles as he ran down the hill.
Jenny was right behind him.
The dune grass snagged,
But he pulled free,
Reveling in the warmth of the sand between his toes.
And high above,
The Welsh Prince watched.
Their gait is stilted.
Old bones do not flow freely,
He thought.
Gnarls protrude and joinings dry.
Jenny was tiring.
Tom reached the sea alone,
His roots were lost in the salty bumps of wind that buffeted his ears.
The sun blazed and he laid his hand on top of his head,
Trying to cool his burning scalp.
Old hair does not cover well,
Away in thought,
Watching Tom.
Grey had replaced the red of Jenny's curls,
But there was no change in her beautiful light,
Even to this last age.
For it would not be long.
He saw the translucence that surrounded her.
It had begun.
And soon he must take her.
Tom was panting.
Actually,
He was gasping for air and bent over as the waves of dizziness swept through him.
The sea splashed his calves and you could see the goose bumps on the rise of his thigh.
He stood upright and peered back at the dunes.
Where'd she gone?
It had always been like this,
Right from the first moment they'd met.
He smiled.
Jenny's shadow made him jump.
She said quietly.
He grunted.
Where did you come from?
He said.
From everywhere and nowhere.
She used their password.
From land,
Sea and sky.
He responded.
They walked together along the water line.
He crab scuttled about their morning business and the old couple listened.
Can you still hear their voices?
Asked Tom.
Of course,
Said Jenny.
They're hungry.
So am I,
Said Tom.
He looked at her.
She was thin.
Too thin.
His eyes prickled.
You're not going to cry,
Are you?
She said.
You always did cry too much.
You're thin,
He said,
Sounding cross.
I'm old,
Tom.
And so are you.
Not as old as you.
I never was.
No,
That's true.
I was a teenager and you still a child.
But very wise for my age.
Cheeky.
Smart.
Brave.
You saved me.
No.
You saved me,
He said,
And took her hand.
Words were unnecessary.
Owain and Persephone had taught them that.
Do you remember where we first saw them?
Tom said.
Remind me,
Said Jenny.
And as Tom began to retell their story of a lost child and a strange young woman with hair as bright as fire and a luminescence that she carried still,
Jenny sat and listened.
Her eyes were far away,
Looking up above the dunes,
But Tom didn't notice.
He was jumping around,
Acting out the adventures of their life.
Occasionally he would stop for Jenny's reaction and she would focus back onto his antics and smile.
The sun began to dip and Jenny shivered.
Not yet,
She murmured.
Tom had got to the part where the band of hikers had come across his woodland home.
Jenny had been in a playful mood that day and said something unforgettable to them.
He'd never known quite what,
But he'd laughed and laughed as the hikers,
Distracted,
Had argued vehemently about what the beautiful red-haired girl had said.
It was mid-sentence when he noticed Jenny was no longer responding.
He rushed over to her.
She looked at him and her eyes were twinkling,
But full of compassion.
Tom,
Do you know how old I actually am?
She asked.
You would never tell me,
He said.
How old are you now,
Tom?
I lost track after eighty.
I was never sure when I began counting anyway.
Why?
You're well over ninety,
Tom.
You run down the dune as the young boy I found,
But time has caught up with us both,
My darling boy.
Tom looked at her.
He stopped speaking and came to sit by her.
They held hands,
Rough,
Large fingers,
Holding slender,
Bony ones.
Jenny felt warm.
She'd always felt warm.
She had found him cold and terrified,
Wandering her wood,
And they'd never been separated since.
Her way in shift is as Persephone came to him.
Is it time?
She asked,
Her voice landing on the air as softly as a dandelion seed on grass.
They stood side by side,
Glorious figures in the fading light.
Jenny watched them high above the dunes.
It will be together then,
She thought,
And felt their loving agreement.
Wayne held out his arms and Persephone hers,
And Jenny walked towards them,
Holding Tom's hand.
To summer.
