I spent a restless night tossing and turning in a bed that felt too big, isolated in a cavernous room that threw unfamiliar shadows. As a young child I loved that room, but as an adult, it seemed overwhelming. I missed the cramped space I shared with Alice, but she practically chased me back down the stairs when I tried to follow her.
I awoke to birdsong as the sparrows rose from the hedges and set out to pluck worms from the damp ground. Normally I would jump from bed, don my uniform and rub the sleep from my eyes while I started an endless round of meaningless chores. But today there were no fires to set, no coal to polish, no step-sisters to wait upon, and no tightrope to walk as I waited for someone to pull it out from under my feet.