The 'Old Vic'

   Albert, his mother’s ‘Little Prince’, was a rascal. He was a curious character who longed for adventure, but his natural calling for exploration was limited to the length of his mother’s apron strings. Albert loved cycling and longed for the opportunity to escape to the open roads beyond the confines of Homer Street – the street on which they lived. The place they called home was the Hotel Victorian, where his stern, yet loving mother ruled as matron of the house.

   Our story begins with Albert’s plea to his mother for independence, to be allowed to grow, to be free to ride beyond Homer Street. He pleaded to his mother how he wanted to experience what to-date he had only read about in old cycling magazines found on dusty shelves in the basement of the ‘Old Vic’. He explained how he wanted to know what was meant by the pleasure found in the suffering of a climb, or the white knuckle thrill of a hair raising descent. His mother listening intently, skillfully hid her growing anxiety as Albert finished his story. For months his mother had known of Albert’s itch, she had observed his frustrations and had known that this day would eventually come. Although she didn’t let on, she had prepared for this day and told Albert that his wish would be granted, but under one condition. The condition being, that she alone would determine the length of Albert’s adventure.

   Albert beamed with excitement as his mother, a prolific knitter, asked him to choose from her collection of yarn something that caught his eye. Albert’s favorite color was orange and from his mother’s overstuffed wicker basket of knitting supplies he plucked a thick, bulky ball of orange wool. Bursting with curiosity he handed the yarn to his mother who whilst declining to accept the yarn said, “no my Little Prince, the yarn isn’t for me, it’s for you.” “For me!” exclaimed Albert. “Yes, for you Albert,” said his mother, “for this ball of yarn shall determine the length of your adventure.”