Once upon a time there was a special girl called Sonya Randall. She was on the way to see her Dad Tristan Godfrey, when she decided to take a short cut through Hyde Park.

It wasn't long before Sonya got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Laura, but Laura was nowhere to be found! Sonya began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Laura. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.

Unexpectedly, she saw a naughty Uni-pug dressed in a blue dungarees disappearing into the trees.

"How odd!" thought Sonya.

For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed Uni-pug. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.

Eventually, Sonya reached a clearing. In the clearing were two houses, one made from peas and one made from cakes.

Sonya could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.

"Hello!" she called. "Is anybody there?"

Nobody replied.

Sonya looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else's chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.

A cackle broke through the air, giving Sonya a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Laura!

"Laura!" shouted Sonya. She turned to the witch. "That's my toy!"

The witch just shrugged.

"Give Laura back!" cried Sonya.

"Not on your nelly!" said the witch.

"At least let Laura out of that cage!"

Before she could reply, the naughty Uni-pug in the blue dungarees rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the cleaning.

"Hello Big Uni-pug," said the witch.

"Good morning." The Uni-pug noticed Laura. "Who is this?"

"That's Laura," explained the witch.

"Ooh! Laura would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!" demanded the Uni-pug.

The witch shook her head. "Laura is staying with me."

"Um... Excuse me..." Sonya interrupted. "Laura lives with me! And not in a cage!"

Big Uni-pug ignored her. "Is there nothing you'll trade?" he asked the witch.

The witch thought for a moment, then said, "I do like to be entertained. I'll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door."

Big Uni-pug looked at the house made from cakes and said, "No problem, I could eat an entire house made from cakes if I wanted to."

"There's no need to show off," said the witch. Just eat one front door and I'll let you have Laura."

Sonya watched, feeling very worried. She didn't want the witch to give Laura to Big Uni-pug. She didn't think Laura would like living with a naughty Uni-pug, away from her house and all her other toys.

Big Uni-pug put on his bib and withdraw a knife and fork from his pocket.

"I'll eat this whole house," said Big Uni-pug. "Just you watch!"

Big Uni-pug pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

   And more.

      And more.

Eventually, Big Uni-pug started to get bigger - just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of cakes, he grew to the size of a large snowball - and he was every bit as round.

"Erm... I don't feel too good," said Big Uni-pug.

Suddenly, he started to roll. He'd grown so round that he could no longer balance!

"Help!" he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.

Big Uni-pug never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Laura remained trapped in the witch's cage.

"That's it," said the witch. "I win. I get to keep Laura."

"Not so fast," said Sonya. "There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from peas. And I haven't had a turn yet.

"I don't have to give you a turn!" laughed the witch. "My game. My rules."

The woodcutter's voice carried through the forest. "I think you should give her a chance. It's only fair."

"Fine," said the witch. "But you saw what happened to the Uni-pug. She won't last long."

"I'll be right back," said Sonya.

"What?" said the witch. "Where's your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Laura back."

Sonya ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from peas and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.

Sonya sat down on a nearby log.

"You fail!" cackled the witch. "You were supposed to eat the whole door."

"I haven't finished," explained Sonya. "I am just waiting for my food to go down."

When Sonya's food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from peas. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.

Eventually, after several sittings, Sonya was down to the final piece of the door made from peas. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Sonya had eaten the entire front door of the house made from peas.

The witch stamped her foot angrily. "You must have tricked me!" she said. "I don't reward cheating!"

"I don't think so!" said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. "This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Laura or I will chop your broomstick in half."

The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.

Sonya hurried over and grabbed Laura, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Laura was unharmed.

Sonya thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Tristan. It was starting to get dark.

When Sonya got to Tristan's house, her Dad threw his arms around her.

"I was so worried!" cried Tristan. "You are very late."

As Sonya described her day, she could tell that Tristan didn't believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.

"What's that?" asked Tristan.

Sonya unwrapped a doorknob made from cakes. "Pudding!" she said.

Tristan almost fell off his chair.

The End

What’s a lovely girl like you doing in a dump like this.
I own it.
That course i took is working well.
Was that the diplomatic course.
It was, have you been on it.
Have i asked you any stupid questions.
Not yet, but give it time.
Ask me another question.
What’s your name.
Sonya.
You’re kidding, did your parents not like you.
Did you actually attend that course.
Well i sort of started the online application, but this **** site popped up and i got distracted.
Did anything else pop up.
That’s quite witty, Sonya.
It wasn’t meant to be. I was meaning, did any religious sites pop up.
Well they do say God works in mysterious ways. So i’m thinking he came through as ***** Bertha from Berlin.
Are you a bit rusty chatting up women.
Well i have just come out of a long term relationship.
Sorry to hear that, how long were you together.
A week.
Wish i hadn’t asked now. Was that a full week.
Well a week is a week.
Not necessarily, it might have been Saturday, Sunday.
I suppose so.
So was it.
No, it was Wednesday, Saturday.
So technically it was four days.
If you want to be pedantic about it.
What about your relationship before that.
Eight days.
What’s your longest relationship.
Three weeks.
That must have seemed like a marriage to you.
Actually my wife died tragically.
I’m really sorry, that was insensitive of me.
Only kidding Sonya, she ran off with the window cleaner. The windows have never recovered.
My God, you’re a train wreck.
You want to be on that train, don’t you Sonya.
I do, i actually want to go out with you. Why the hell do i want to go out with you.
Well Sonya, if you don’t go out with me. Then one fine day you’ll marry this boring guy, and i’ll be at the back of your mind.
But in my mind, I’ve already dumped you.
Not necessarily Sonya, this could be a match made in heaven.
It won't be, I’ve already known you five minutes, and already you’re doing my head in.
Well that is a sort of a relationship, is it not.
I suppose so. I don’t even know your name.
It’s Paul.
Paul, did your parents not like you.
Do you see what you did there, Sonya.
*** i’ve become you, how the hell did that happen.
I’m not sure Sonya, maybe we shouldn’t go out together.
No we must, it’s like i need to go out with you for my sanity’s sake.
Okay Sonya, pick you up at eight tomorrow night...

Sonya lay on the bed in the Parisian hotel room. It was a small room with an adjoining bathroom, a bidet and toilet, with French windows that opened out so one could see and hear the busy streets of Paris below. The windows were open and sounds came into the room with a summery warm air. She lay there in a blue skirt and  white blouse; her feet bare, her legs curled up in a fetal position; she wore nothing underneath, she seldom did; it gave her a sense of daring, of a hidden freedom. Benedict had gone out for cigarettes and a breath of fresh air as he called it. She had a book in her hands. Kierkegaard's Either /Or. Her favourite philosopher. He kept her mind fresh; gave her life a direction. She looked down at another book by her side: Benedict's Dostoevsky novel: Crime and Punishment. It had a page marker about half way through. She could have gone out with him, but she wanted time alone, time to reflect on her life at that moment. She lay her book beside her. She thought of her husband on business in New York and her two sons in boarding school and not due home until the present term ended. Her husband Erik knew she was going to Paris, but he thought she was going alone to research on her proposed book on Zola. Benedict was in Paris on vacation and having met Sonya in a wine bar near her home when Erik was away for the weekend and the sons at school, and after a deep conversation and feeling low, she and Benedict made love in her bed at home, and arranged the trip to Paris between them. Erik was a lousy lover who had become increasingly lousier, and they seldom had *** as he was always busy, and she not in the mood. But Benedict was different; he made *** exciting again, made the whole process something alive and daring, and not just a set out process of mild urges. She lay on her back with her legs out straight reaching for the end of the bed...Benedict bought cigarettes at a small shop in a side street and spoke in English as his French was almost non-existent. The woman who served him understood him well enough and they talked of London where she had stayed for six months few years before. He loved Paris. The whole city seemed alive and full of history and art and literature. No one knew him here; there was almost no chance of him meeting anyone he knew here or who knew Sonya. A sense of freedom invaded him. He and Sonya had had *** that morning and he needed to get out to buy cigarettes and breath in the Parisian air. She was an exciting lover; willing to explore different angles and approaches to ***. The night before had been one long episode of ****** games and experiences and moment of just laying there catching their breath and reading to each other from their own books, then *** again and again. And there was the factor that she wore no underclothes, so that when they went out to a restaurant, they both were aware of this factor, and he got a kind of kick knowing, and she got a thrill knowing that she was free, and walking out on a limb of acceptable behaviour and dress code...Sonya wished that Benedict would come back again soon. She wanted him, wanted to make the most of their time together, their days of freedom to be together, and eat and drink and have *** as often as they wished, and for as long as they wished, without fear her husband would be home at a certain time or that neighbours would see them together and tell Erik. She pulled up her skirt and lay there as if waiting the return of her lover, letting herself feel the freedom of laying so, of not having to worry about her husband walking in on her as he nearly did one late afternoon when she lay on their bed bringing herself to a poor organism...Benedict sat on a seat in a small cafe smoking and sipping from a coffee. He would return to the room after his coffee and smoke. Later they would go out for a meal, and see the city, and feel the history of the place about them. He knew it would come to an end in a few days, and she would be back with her husband and her boring life, and he back to his job, and in his own place sharing with others. Make the most of. Take to the limits. Explore and live and enjoy...Sonya wondered where Benedict was. She missed him being there if only for a short duration. Once their days together were over, and she back with Erik, it would seem like a dream, and her own regular life be one big bore. She ran her hands down her thighs. Sensed her fingers. Soft, smooth. Erik never explored her. He was a five minute and over and done with type. More like a mechanic than a lover. Benedict had taken her to places she had not been before, explored her and brought her to the point of bubbling over and out, leaving her feeling that she was empty and vacant, and yet so alive, and buzzing like a beehive...Benedict made his way back to the hotel room. The coffee had refreshed him; the Parisian air made him feel like a new man, a man of freedom, a man on the edge of a huge abyss, with his very life tingling with new excitement of the big dare. Sonya would be waiting for him, brimming like a *** on a  hot stove. He had released her of her hang ups and held in senses; had unbutton a new area of excitement, and sexuality and sensuality. And she in turn had opened up for him that arena of experience which he had only dreamed about in his tossing and turning nights at home... Sonya heard the door open. Benedict saw her laying there like Venus on a beach of blue and white and bare, a radio playing a Delius piece, filling the air, and he, Benedict, so alive, ready and waiting, and going there.