Shouldn't all the Tom's matter to.
This is the story of Tom and of the lightness he brings into the world; in spite of his disability.
Not very much happened on the journey from Olney to Milton Keynes and then the M1.
'Melvyn;...Melvyn...Toms voice cut through the heads and the faces of people around the round table in the community room.
Tom always thought that she would be there forever; like the pond and fish at the bottom their garden and the slugs on the patio. Forever visiting him twice weekly.
Tom had dreams of his own but couldn't explain his dreams to anyone. He did know that he wanted to be free and to run with the penguins; or even have one of his own.
Many days had been and gone since Tom had entered the world. Sun and raindrops falling into the earth or running collectively, an army on a march.
She’d told Tom that in her days folk only had one dustbin. That in her day’s people didn’t have central heating and in her days the bin lid was used for drawing the fire up in the hearth.
It was twenty minutes later than planned that the mini-bus drew away from the centre; packed with excitement, dreams and anticipation.
One of the doctors had said to her kindly, unknowingly touching her on part of her wrist where she’ accidentally scalded herself, that it might be a good idea if she considered her options.