THE LONG WALK

So, I’m upright again on this road, my legs fully extended and carrying me, one hard, small dragged step at a time.

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading The Kureishi Chronicles. As I continue to write via dictation with the help of my family, your support means everything.

Please consider becoming a paid subscriber, it really makes a difference.

I am strapped to a Zimmer frame, with one physio at the front, and one at each side to support my legs, which tend to drag. But I can’t always determine where my feet are as I am supposed to be looking up rather than down, keeping my posture upright.

We’ve been planning this walk for months. It has long been my ambition to walk on the pavement, uneven as it is, from my house to the coffee shop, two-hundred metres away. I have been practising in the house and garden, my physios demanding I keep my head up, all of us determined to get to the end of my street without stopping.

It’s scorchingly hot today and my physios discouraged me from attempting this outside. But I insisted. So here we are, me struggling along with the three of them, my devoted team. As we go, I think of who they are, and how much of their stories I know now, seeing them everyday, talking throughout our sessions as they push me to achieve more.

Enzo, the Italian, a handsome man, good at everything he turns his hand to, a keen sportsman, gambler and a barman, who seems to know everything about the body and its disfunctions. He works me hard, getting me to stand over and over again, even as my knees resist.