I had had a restless night, and woken up in an cold sweat.
I was I front of an old gothic gateway.
The ironwork was once black but now it was rusted and rotten, the lock holding it closed. Perished at my touch. The gates swung open inviting me to enter.
Should I cross over the threshold?
Feck it this is a dream I thought. So walked across the courtyard to the old Mansion ahead.
It was a typical Georgian building the type these of wool barons had built during the peninsula wars. It was a mixture the house at Tatton Park and Capsthorne House.
I got to the big front door, but something told me to head to the right side of building. I continued along the path the house on my left.
As I passed the windows I felt I was being watched, tracked or even studied. I tried a sly glance, but saw nothing.
I found the side entrance it was a small Green door
I sat down for a moment
Why was this done
Well it’s was check the message was sent.
It had gone to my son
I looked at the screen
It flashed for some time
What was the respondant trying to gleen
Or was this a dream
So with June fast approaching and Wayne has now equalled myself in written papers I thought I should pull my finger out of.. erm nowhere and do a plan so here it is:
It was a stormy night as he stood on the highest ledge of the tower. Dressed in the darkness of the night he was clothed in greys nod blacks. Only the odd lighting fork would light him up.
He smiled out across the dark abyss below. It was time he thought to test the skills he had been honing for years.
I said Lets go!
No not going to happen!
I sorry but I am the id and you’re just a wyme.
He jumped and let out the grappling line. It shot out in to get the night.
Here we go, feels great.
The line went slack, the hook never reached it destination.
Ah not good.
Hahahah told you, we going to hit the floor.