Duvet days

Some days are not worth getting out of bed, they're wrong, you're wrong, the bleak endless monotony of failing over and over again growls at you like an angry black monster hiding under the bed, so you pull yourself back in, tucking the duvet all around you and pull it up over your head.

You're engulfed in softness and fluffiness and comfort, cocooned by a great warm marshmallow, keeping all the dark and growliness away.

And off you go, down a make believe well of your own choice, where you are the heroine and you can have all that you want or need.

You can speed down a flower filled path through a woodland on a galloping gray horse, hair flying wildly behind you as you duck beneath branches and jump over fallen trees. The birds singing loudly from the canopy.

Before you the path opens up onto a meadow and smoke billows from the chimneys of houses scattered around the middle of the clearing. The hustle and bustle of people working and children playing replaces the singing of the birds.
 
You slow your horse to a trot and then a walk and slide deftly from her back. Your friend Cara rushes up to greet you as you sling the rabbits from your back, dropping them at the feet of your horse.

You hug Cara and tell her how you caught the three rabbits in the forest as she picks them up. She heads over to where other people are preparing meals and starts to skin the rabbits. Turning back to your horse you unsaddle her and brush her down then turn her out onto the meadow to rest with the other horses.

Children rush past you in a haze of dust, screeching and laughing and shouting with each other.

The sun basks warmly in the sky as you take a rest upon a stump bench by the gently crackling fire.

Suddenly the childrens laughter turns to screams and the thunder of hooves comes thickly from the dark wood. Out of the trees come pouring hoards of men upon giant horses, slaying people with swords and spears as they stampede through the meadow.

You rush from the bench, crying out for Cara, as you watch a horseman heading straight for her. She dives under the table just as the sword sweeps down inches from where she stood. Running over you take hold of her arm and pull her to you.

Grabbing a large axe from the kitchen table you turn to help the other villagers fight off the dark horsemen.

Leaping across tables you jump high in the air and swing you axe low, cleanly slicing off the head of one of the horsemen. You spin round and run towards another, screaming a warrior roar, as you see them about to slay a child. Pulling your arm back you use your full force to throw the axe straight into the heart of the horseman and sweep up the child into your arms. The horseman falls from his steed as you grab the horses mane and leap into the saddle with the child. Grabbing a long spear resting against a table you turn to the rest of the horsemen and help the others to banish them from your village.

The meadow lays in ruins and people are strewn around crying over fallen loved ones and shouting for their families. A mother runs towards you and the child cries out for her. You lift the child into her arms as they embrace each other.

Jumping down from the horse you run back to Cara and start helping with clearing up the dead horsemen and preparing for the villagers funeral pyres.

Late into the evening the village works, dragging the horsemen into a forbidden part of the forest and laying curses around blackened marking stumps.

In the village several pyres are prepared for the villagers and the people lament a mournful song of loss whilst goddesses lay blessings on the fallen villagers.

Altogether the fallen villagers are raised onto the burning pyres and as the flames lick up towards the sky the villagers slowly fall into slumber.