A Friday afternoon. I always took Friday afternoons off so I could do the food shopping and meet for a Costa with my friends Sophie and Avril. It had been our tradition for as long as I could remember. I ordered a caramel latte as always, we moaned about life as always, then once back home in my modestly sized three-bedroomed detached house, I changed into my pink gym wear and went for a jog. As always. And that’s where it happened. I remember running down Butt Lane, through the park connecting the two villages and that’s it, that’s where my memory completely disappears. The next thing I remember I was sat in a white armchair, in a small room completely made of white. White floors, white carpet, white furniture. For a second, I thought I’d gone to heaven. I know what you’re thinking, how c
