freedom therapy brighton

They all arrived at different times and all had difficult journeys.

The wolf stuck to the shadows as he made his way across town. There was a time when he would have strolled confidently down the middle of the road, but those days were gone. He now had to creep around at night and hope he wasn’t spotted by the hostile inhabitants that had taken over his land. He was once a king, the wolf; master of all he surveyed. Now he was a thief in the night, stealing his way; avoiding the glare of headlights. He was still proud, though. How could he not be with his lineage stretching back through the ages to when he and his type roamed free, before the forests were cleared to make way for people and their buildings? Still, he was a survivor. Many had perished.

The wombat took the longest, but she also started earlier. She fought all the way. Battled and ran, battled and ran. She was tired, but determined to make the appointment. These were her friends and she wouldn’t let them down. She arrived at the meeting place and planted herself behind the root of a large oak tree and waited. As she waited she thought of all the things she had missed as she battled and ran. She came to the conclusion that it was time to put down some roots and grow, just like the great oak. This thought gave her comfort.

The spider arrived last. She didn’t normally stray this far, but also felt that she had to see her friends. Such unlikely friends. How did they meet again? Oh yes, just by chance. The right place at the right time, a spark and the rest is history. So different, yet, so similar, when you dug below the surface.

The three friends greeted each other warmly and talked of old times and of their perilous journeys in getting to this point. As they talked, they ate. By the time it was time to leave, they were fully fed and nourished by each other’s company. It was hard to leave, but they knew they had to go. If they spent too long together, they’d kill each other!