8.30 Walter Flood checked his face in the mirror. It was the same face in the same mirror he’d looked at these past forty-nine years. He gave his head the once over. His hair was of a bizarre design, not that he would have said so after all he combed it that way. It was …
Walter Flood – more from the village of Feckenham Swarberry Read More »
Millie Mead had an air of significant superiority about her. Sat before her was a woman of middle years, a tourist to the village of Fekenham Swarberry, who had ventured forth from Tadworth, Surrey seeking the rustic tranquillity that graced the oft-overlooked Dorset quietude. Millie’s joy at having a captive audience, one with whom she could …
Outside a fine drizzle was coating plant, tree, grass and kerbside. Inside the Frog and Radiator, a fire burned warm and bright taking the chill out of the bone. The house was heaving as per usual with villagers, out of towners and even the odd tourist gathered within. Being odd was de rigeur in Fekenham. Oddness …
The minx from the village – tales of Fekenham Swarberry Read More »