As I approach the familiar façade I feel kind of exhausted, but I’m giddy too.
Your body doesn’t want to do it, but you make it.Īnd then, at last, I’ve made it to Starbucks. It’s like climbing a mountain, I tell myself. Most people walk along in their own worlds anyway.Īs I reach the town centre the crowds become denser and the shop fronts are bright and noisy and with every step I have a stronger desire to run, but I don’t. I haven’t raised my gaze from the pavement but that’s OK. My dark glasses are on, my hands are jammed in the pockets of my hoodie, and I’ve pulled the hood up for extra protection. Even though my lizard brain is poised to curl up in fright, I’m managing to put one foot in front of the other. We live about twenty minutes’ walk from Starbucks, if you’re striding.
So I waited till they left, got my key, got my money and the camera, and just left the house.
I couldn’t face the whole big deal of telling them and Mum fussing and all that palaver. Mum and Dad are out for the day with friends at some garden show and they’ve taken Frank with them to “broaden his horizons,” so they have no idea I’m doing this.
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