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Friends and neighbours

"Is there anybody at home?" are the first ever words I say as I walk through the front door, knowing very well she's in as I felt her presence as I open the garden gate.

"Fancy a cup of tea?" as I put the kettle on the open fire. "Ah, nice cup of tea." as we chatted about the meaning of life. "I'll go and get some more coal for the fire, and while I'm at it, chop some stick."

Time for lunch, lamb chops today. "Put the kettle on the fire," she said. "Ah, nice cup of tea." as we chatted about the meaning.

"Graham," she asks "Could you fill the gerry cans with water from the well?"

While waiting for the gerry cans to fill up, I lights a cigarette, feeling her presence once again. She doesn't like me smoking. I extinguish the cigarette under a stone as if hiding a secret but I know I could not hide anything from her.

As I return with the water, she immediately said "If God meant you to smoke you'd be walking around with a cowl on your head."

I puts the kettle on the fire. "Ah, nice cup of tea," as we started chatting once again about the meaning.

Three o'clock. "Time to feed the chickens and ducks," she said. "I'm off after that," I replied. "Ok, see you tomorrow." she said. "Don't forget to chain the gate on your way out."

"Ok." I replied.

Have you always lived in Blackwood?
No, I've travelled a lot, working in hotels - the Savoy in London etc., on farms in Surrey, and I was at sea for 11 years including a nine month stint on the QE2. I class myself as an outgoing person, easy to get on with.

What's your story about?
It's about Mary Morgan, an elderly lady I befriended who lived in a wooden bungalow with no amenities whatsoever. Although I was away a lot I kept in touch. That's what my story's about. She stayed in her room while I travelled the world. I would visit her, have a cup of tea and a chat, fetch her water or firewood. I'd never met anyone like her before, she was like someone mystical or magical.

Your comments

"This story is about my grandmother, Mary Ann Morgan, who lived till the ripe old age of 100 years and received a telegram from the Queen. She was Mother to four children, Louvain, Jack, Marian and Stanley. Marian my Mother and sadly passed away recently. As Mary Ann Morgan's grand-daughter, I have many happy memories of summer holidays spent at her bungalow, a remarkable woman. I would like to thank the author for his kind memories." Jane Wood, Burghfield Common, Reading, UK.

"This is my favorite digital story thus far. I love the poetic voice, the characterization of the person who's fuzzy on screen but very sharply defined in the mind. Really beautiful" Doug Reilly, Geneva, New York, USA.