Tag Archives: mystery

The Hooded Stone… Stuart France

“It has to be the Stone on Gardom’s Edge…” “What does?” says Wen. “My Robin Hood Stone… I mean it didn’t look much like the stone on Gardom’s Edge but that could have been the angle.” I study the sketch … Continue reading

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Hunting the ‘Tree Demon’…

* …”Where Hu-Wa-Wa comes and goes becomes a track and all those ways are well trodden. As Hu-Wa-Wa passes through the forest the birds begin to sing… Wood-Pigeon moans. Turtle-Dove coos in answer. As Hu-Wa-Wa passes through the forest the … Continue reading

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The Lost Stone of Chat… Stuart France

“There is a stone which would be worth visiting. It is in Baslow which is on our way to the Symposium so we could stop off there, grab some lunch, check out the stone and then head off to our … Continue reading

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Free Day III … Stuart France

… Our-Father, Lady, Countess-Grae passed light and demure across the softly shifting shades of a turquoise beach. Formless as beauty likened to the morning mist, her presence cleansed and refreshed the air as she danced; flitting capriciously between the stark … Continue reading

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Free Day II … Stuart France

* …Left alone in my room for long enough I thought I might discover how they did it, how they worked it. I thought I was being clever. Initially, I had suspected the lights, either the lights or the heating, … Continue reading

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Thursday photo prompt: Spectral #writephoto

Every Thursday at noon GMT, I publish one of my photos as a writing prompt.  If you know where the photo was taken, please keep it to yourself until the challenge is closed and I usually share something about the … Continue reading

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Photo prompt round-up: Turning #writephoto

* Colours and contrasts Winter warmth and autumn frost Confuse the senses Eternal opposites meld The glory of creation * The photo for this week’s prompt was taken in Cumbria a couple of years ago, when we went north to … Continue reading

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Free Day … Stuart France

* …Metallic blue piping ran at strangely oblique angles, stretching deep into the ever darkening glass cliff-face, sparkling in the sunlight when at odd times it emerged like some long forgotten swimmer up for air, jutting rudely into the open … Continue reading

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Black and White… Stuart France

* …Mother said, “The spiral patterns on the gate don’t mean anything, dear, they’re just decoration.” If life is a search for meaning then it would be as well to point out from the start that there is none to … Continue reading

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Sweet Terror… Stuart France

* …I first noticed the spirals on the gate of number eight Teesgrove Road when I was turning the soil and tidying the litter from the strip of earth which separated its grounds from those of number ten Teesgrove Road. … Continue reading

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