Writer's Notebook

Before setting off Richard steadied himself on his newly acquired, makeshift legs. His eyes fixed on the big double door at the end of the corridor, he propelled himself forward, lurching from one step to the other. Three or four steps - that was all he could muster without resting. Stop and start, like a little baby falteringly reaching out for his mother's outstretched hands, before starting all over again. Yet, there was no mother now, not even a nurse. This was his battle and he would have to wrestle with it alone.

With each pause, his eyes lignered over the maze of doors that littered the corridor on both sides. So many anonymous fates were being played out away from his subtle gaze. And somewhere was Sonya. He knew he should... but his courage failed him.

He struggled on, his eyes riveted to the doors in front of him. He was going to make it. He had to make it. Just a few more steps now, and as he struggled forward, the ward doors transformed themselves into the doors of that magic wardrobe, the one he had so often read about as a child - the doors to a wonderfully magical world. He straightened himself up, his step quickened and he thrust himself through the doors. Yet, the world he was entering was something far removed from the magical world of Narnia. It was the harsh world of reality that had sent him to the clinic in the first place.