Beyond the Mangrove Trees
No one expects their house to float away. Ethel certainly hadn’t. Our story begins in the sleepy village of Greenwood, where Ethel had spent her entire life. It was an overcast Sunday afternoon and Ethel watched the rain lash against the window from her armchair and sighed. The rain hadn’t stopped all afternoon. She’d intended to go to the library and visit Wilfred’s grave today. Ethel sipped her tea and swallowed her disappointment.
Ethel didn’t get out much anymore. Most of her friends had died or moved away. If she was lucky she saw the postman once a week and the dour man at the corner shop when she ran out of milk. Fortunately, loneliness had never afflicted Ethel. She had always enjoyed her own company.
While she couldn’t be accused of having lived a very exciting life, Ethel had no regrets. Well, there was that one burning ambition she’d locked away years ago. She’d never even told Wilfred - he’d have thought her daft. Secretly Ethel had always wanted to be an explorer like Lady Stanhope, venturing to
