Sue’s #writephoto prompt fits exactly what I’m writing at the moment. It might not make perfect sense, but it’s uncanny how well the image fits the story.

The garth is quiet even though the walls are crumbling and cannot keep the normal hubbub of the city out. The old church will never receive the repairs it needs; Riseárd has decided to pull it down and placate Archbishop Ó Tuathail by building a new one. The noises of the city are attenuated here because the mood is sombre. Samhain is close and although the Archbishop will have the cathedral glittering with candles, everyone knows what the candles signify, and it has nothing to do with commemorating dead saints. This year there will be three souls wandering the streets either seeking their way home, or seeking revenge.

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