Ellie blanked out the voice of the guide as he droned on, and gazed down the empty nave. Rows of columns strode up and down, and disappeared into the shadows of the transept. Where the altar and the choir stalls had been was a yawning space. The rose window that should have shed its coloured magic over the stone flags was dark. Perhaps the day was too dull, too cloudy. Ellie frowned, doubting her eyes.

The party was shuffling into movement again behind the briskly striding guide who was obviously thrilled to bits to be getting outside again.

Continue reading at Jane Dougherty Writes