Hello everyone, welcome to my stories. Here you will find free-to-access tales written for big people who just happen to have a Little person inside. Some stories, such as the one below, will be in parts, others will be stand-alone tales, but all are presented in the hope that your big and Little selves get something out of them. I would love to hear from you about what you enjoyed and what you would like me to write about, just use the comments box at the bottom and ping me a message :)

Without further ado... Are you sitting comfortably...? Then we'll begin...

Story Number One: My Blankie, part one

Once upon a time…

Mike was struggling. To anyone on the outside looking in, he had it all: a good job, a wife who loved him and a beautiful daughter. But as we know, things aren’t always what they seem. It was a great job, he loved teaching, but increasingly it seemed to him that external factors were getting in the way of the actual teaching. Services cut, wage stagnation, benefit instability and all the while it was the teachers who were expected to pick-up the slack. It seemed to Mike that by the time he wound down, the summer break was over. He’d started to feel like he was letting the kids down, and that weighed heavily on him. There was also the fact that his daughter was now of an age to be testing boundaries. Mike understood this to be a good thing, that his wonderful Amy felt able to try new things and test the limits of what was safe and possible. He was proud of the life that he and his wife had made, making such growth possible, but by god it was tiring. There were some days, when, after a long day of managing other people’s challenging children, the last thing he wanted to do was deal with his own.

And then there was his wife. His wonderful, gorgeous wife. He always known he’d been punching above his weight when they got together. And, after all, teachers aren’t renowned for their high salaries. But they had fun, they laughed, my god did they laugh. The same surreal sense of humour, slightly off-kilter that non plussed their friends when they, and they alone, burst-out laughing at the same daftness. They were lucky, that first burst of intense passion and connection morphed into compassionate companionship. But that was what worried Mike, he feared his sexy, gorgeous wife would look for passion elsewhere. He loved Sam now more than ever, but he just didn’t feel like making love. Or having sex. He’d been to the GP and his health was fine, but he just didn’t have anything left after he’d finished caring for everyone else. And that brought him to his parents. They were fine really, but they were down-sizing and needed help the past few weekends to sort-out what needed to be taken to the charity shop, what needed eBaying, what was going to the tip and what was going with them. They weren’t ‘pack-rats,’ but it was a brutal task to sort out a life’s worth of belongings.

Debbie, his younger sister, despite living closer was not the one to pick-up this added burden. But then she never had been. When he was a child he, being the eldest, was always the one expected to follow the rules and “be a good boy” and this had carried on into adulthood. Normally, he didn’t mind, but right now he did. He was tired and just wanted someone to look after him for once. For Amy and Sam, jeez, even Debbie to say “no Mike, I’ve got this.” In this moment that seemed like some unreachable fantasy, cruel in its absence, and so he pushed it out of his mind.

Saturday morning and the alarm on his phone sounded. It didn’t wake him, it didn’t need to, and before the noise roused Sam he was up and out of bed. No need for a shower, he’d be working-up a sweat soon enough. He grabbed a protein bar and left Sam to take Amy to her swimming class, and that quickly he was out of the house and on his way to his parents. When he arrived he found his parents still in their dressing gowns, eating toast. He was shocked by the surge of anger he felt in his belly: ‘didn’t they know what he has given up to be here…?’ He had precious little time to relax and here they were, seemingly ‘rubbing’ his nose in this disparity. It was when he thought ‘you’re taking the piss’ that his anger subsided, his thought’s rageful tone jolting him. He loved his mum and dad, they were good people, but this… what, what was this feeling about…? Whatever it was, and whatever it was tied to, were not new to him. This was an old feeling, one he thought was locked away in the forever ago of his childhood. He remembered feeling like this as a teenager. A memory of being maybe 12 or so, and his parents expecting him to babysit his sister. He was used to that, but that  long-ago Saturday was different. That Saturday he was supposed to go with his friends to see the opening of Terminator. They’d talked of nothing else all week at school, about how Arnie looked so cool and how anyone who didn’t see it would be such a loser. And next Monday that would be him. He’d be the loser. Mike was shocked by the intensity of the feelings that went with this memory. Something he hadn’t thought of in decades took him, like a TARDIS, back in time to a place where he felt unloved and taken for granted – just like he did now.

Without a word, Mike went upstairs into his old room and without thinking started sorting through the belongings of his younger self. Most of it was easy to deal with, after all who wants someone else’s green swimming award from thirty years ago. Bin it. He was making good progress, and, if he was honest, the residual feelings of anger helped fuel the process. But as he worked, the toll of his exertions drained him and his emotions followed and Mike found himself in something of a Zen-like state. “Didn’t they call that flow?” he found himself thinking. “Go me, I have achieved flow.” He laughed out loud and wished Sam were here to appreciate the moment of surreal daftness with him. His dad must have heard him laugh because he put his head into the room and asked what was so funny. Instantly, Mike was a surly teenager again, practically muttering “nothing” to his father. His dad didn’t respond, but a single raised eyebrow spoke a silent question as he withdrew. Feeling deflated, Mike sat heavily on his old bed. He doubted anyone would want the mattress, but the frame was still solid and could be re-purposed. The kids at school reflected how tough times were, and he hoped some other young lad would sleep well on this reliable old bed. He may as well tackle the bed now. Wanting to be alone, Mike wrestled the mattress by himself, pulling it into the upstairs landing. It was only when he returned that he saw it, a pale green baby blanket, battered and loved to within an inch of its life. How could he have forgotten his blankie…?

Mike grabbed his blankie and sat on the floor, leaning against the door the pressure of his back ensuring it remained closed. It wasn’t the same colour he remembered, and it certainly didn’t smell the same, but blankie felt just right. He held it to his face, rubbing it to his cheek just as he used to, stroking the silken edge as he did so. Holding it close he drifted off in reverie, recalling how blankie used to comfort him. Time went by and he gradually realised how much calmer he felt.

How could he have forgotten something which was so meaningful to him? There was so much going on internally, thoughts, feelings and memories, some sweet some painful… But all just a bit too much right now. He decided to do what he usually did: he’d get on with what he needed to, and deal with it later. He put blankie in a pocket and got on with the rest of the day. It was late when he returned home, but he, and his parents, had made good progress. His hand was on his blankie, stuffed into his pocket, when he walked in. He wasn’t sure why, but Mike didn’t want to tell anyone about it. Even though he knew Sam would be fine about it, it still seemed like something to keep to himself. After a bite to eat and a quick shower he went to bed, ready to start the week all over again tomorrow.

I do hope you enjoyed reading and feel free to let me know what you think. Part two will be posted soon and until then, happy reading Little ones :)