The building itself exuded homeliness. A warm glowing light spread out of the open door to illuminate the pale green grass of the large clearing it inhabited. On one side of the door slivers of much paler, fainter lights glowed: a brace of windows, curtains drawn across them to hide the rain outside. A chimney climbed above the roof on one side of the building, and through the pouring rain we watched thick grey wood smoke snaking up into the night sky.
"A fire!" I remarked with glee.
"Ale!" my friend prophesied.
The sound of laughter and conviviality beckoned us.
Christopher 12 months ago
This is a beautifully written series, Drew (as usual). I'm anxious to see where this is heading.
Drew Martyn 11 months ago
Thanks very much Christopher - and so am I!! Though I do have a rough idea - unless "the narrative mutinees on me" (c)Christopher :)
Christopher 11 months ago
Haha. Yeah, narratives do have a nasty habit of fomenting revolution.
Neville Hunt 11 months ago
Here’s to mutiny! ☠️