The Blue Scooter

THE BLUE SCOOTER

Lizzie whizzed around the block on her blue metal scooter. She loved it so much, and there was nothing to beat going at speed and feeling the wind through her hair.  She felt free and alive.  She knew the rules though, her mum had told her as she left the house ‘Don’t go over the road away from the block or you will go to bed early.’ From where Lizze was, spinning round and round on the pavement on her side of the road, the houses on the other side looked new and exciting.

Lizzie arrived at the back gate. She was so thirsty, she barely paused to prop the scooter against the outside wall before she ran down the path.  The gate slammed behind her leaving her precious scooter completely out of sight.

Lizzie opened the door with such vigour it made her mum cross. ‘I’ve told you not to come in the door like that – you’ll have it off its hinges! For goodness sake, slow down!’

Lizzie grabbed the glass off the worktop and hung on the taps as she was so parched she guzzled the water. Then, newly on fire, she banged the glass down and skipped to the back gate, anxious to return to her scooter.

Lizzie flung open the gate. She looked left and right. There was no scooter. Devastated, she ran to the corner of the road, expecting to see a neighbourhood child playing a joke on her but there was no one, nothing. She ran back to her mum, crying, red-faced, her clothes damp from her tears.

‘Someone’s taken my scooter,’ she wept.  Her mum’s tone changed instantly, ‘Oh dear, love, I expect you’ve left it somewhere.’ If this was meant to be comforting, it wasn’t. Taking Lizzie by the hand, she led her of the back gate. They both looked out expectantly. No scooter. ‘Perhaps someone’s borrowed it,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Let’s hope it will turn up.’

Back in the kitchen, Lizzie’s mum sat her in a chair and gave her a rare chocolate biscuit to pacify her.

Jane July 2016