An Unexpected Meeting by the River
Emma and her husband James decided to shake things up—they packed up their life in bustling London and moved to a quiet village in the Cotswolds. They bought a cottage, started keeping chickens, and planted a veggie patch. It was a whole new chapter. In the evenings, Emma would take her goats down to the riverbank, watching the sunset and soaking up the peace.
“Mum, it’s getting dark—where are you off to with the goats?” called her daughter Sophie, puzzled.
“Just down to the river—the grass is greener there,” Emma replied. “I’ll be back in an hour, don’t worry.”
But an hour passed, then two, and no sign of her. Sophie grew anxious and convinced James to go looking. They found Emma sitting on the garden bench, pale and shaky, laughing one moment and crying the next.
“Mum, what happened?” Sophie asked.
“I saw… something,” Emma breathed. “Not a ghost… worse.”
Just an hour earlier, she’d been strolling along the footpath to the river as usual. The goats grazed while she dozed off on the grass. She woke at dusk, startled, and rushed to round them up. Of course, the mischievous things strayed into the bushes. Emma followed—then spotted something dark and long slithering after the last goat, Buttercup.
At first, she thought: stoat. Then panic gripped her—what if it was rabid? The creature wouldn’t back off. Buttercup started bleating, and Emma raised her walking stick, ready to defend her… when suddenly, the thing hopped as if about to pounce.
But when it was all over, she crept closer—and realised it was… a pair of enormous boxer briefs, snagged on Buttercup by a fishing line. Probably left to dry on a bush, and the goat had dragged them along.
Emma collapsed onto the grass, laughing hysterically—all the fear and adrenaline bursting out at once. That’s exactly how James and Sophie found her. And back home, they laid down the law: no more river walks with the goats. Who knows what else might “come alive” out there?
