Sally's journey: WHITE HEAVEN WOMEN by Jessie B Tyson

The following is a short excerpt from Sally's journey through Whitehaven town centre in an alarming Cumbrian storm, as she made her way on foot to a past life meeting.


Within minutes, the wind changed course and howled like a gnashing banshee. Paranoia gripped her. She looked for the owner of the cries, totally convinced a demonic spirit was inside the squall. Her eyes darted everywhere as blood coursed through her veins.

But she saw no spirit wailing in the wind.


The flattened garbage can induced a flashback of a dream when Sally saw herself crushed to death as a baby. She didn’t understand any of her dreams, least of all that one.

Gripped with fear, she leapt from the doorway at breakneck speed and sprinted down King Street, as if chased by the hounds of Hades. She stopped to catch her breath in the entryway of the old Glessal's shop. It was in grave disrepair. The timber door was decayed and flaking away, and cement from the keystone had fallen off, making a messy pile on the ground. She peered through the window and beheld a surreal blue glow. It was shaped like a person.

It moved.


Next post will be Friday 2nd September, and a tad longer in honour of my deceased sister's birthday.

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