Thursday, 3 March 2016

Albert Clock Tower

Midnight. A bell tolls once. It’s cold, damp, and a low wind blows across the marsh. Three ladies are leaning on the base of the clock tower with mist all around them. Suddenly, a horse neighs, then a light shines and the sound of hooves squelching on turf becomes louder and louder. Quickly, the three ladies dust down their dresses; pull up their stockings and tighten their corsets. Cigarettes are quickly extinguished and the stench of cheap perfume suddenly fills the air. The horse neighs again as it comes into view; a black stallion which is startled upon seeing the ladies and raises its front legs in defence; but it's rider is quickly able to bring it under control. The horse turns a full circle in front of the ladies; then comes to a stop as its rider jumps down.
‘Good evening’ said the masked man, sheltered in a long green cloak. ‘Hope I didn't disturb you’.

‘Not at all’ said the tallest of the three; a brunette with very short hair and an even shorter skirt who flashes her eyelids in response. ‘A pleasure to see you Sir on a night such as this’. 

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