Well Hello Everybody! Are you fine? Following last weekend’s little field trip, the Little Houses and I are safely ensconced back at the table once more. It was so lovely to meet everyone at Cheltenham and put names to faces, thank you for and all your support and for following along with us over the ether. Also thank you Craft Festival for organising the whole wonderful shebang!
You might think that, given the exhaustion brought on by such an event, the little Houses might be easing off the gas pedal and looking for calm… Not so… Have a seat. I’ll pour the tea. Do have a shortbread finger – I drizzled that chocolate on by hand – whilst we hear the latest news…
Living on the Edge 229; The Abyss…
Although it is often talked about, nobody truly knows how deep the ravine is. There have been various attempts to answer the question with extra-long tape measures, trigonometry and all manner of mathematical formulae. A small team of scientists with expensive sonar equipment set out a few months ago but they’re still not back… So, the definitive answer is yet to be discovered…
During the day the village is a bustling hive of doings, chit-chat and general happy hubbub. Being careful is just part of daily life; everyone is used to it, especially near the sheer drops.
But, when the evenings fall, something in the air changes. It isn’t simply the usual dip in temperature; it is a palpable uneasiness. A frightening darkness descends that feels as if it has fingers. Cold fingers. Voices are louder, echoes more eerie and tales of terrifying falls, monsters and disappearances abound.
This evening, as the last birdsong faded into the dimming sky, issuing from the mouth of the ravine came a scream so bloodcurdling that it stopped everyone in their tracks. Once silence returned a quick torchlight headcount revealed that Renee was missing… And no one was about to believe that she’d just walked away… xxx
