The Storm
This is very nearly a true story. Nearly but not quite. The evening at the Tinner’s Arms, the loose chain and the sticking clutch – all that is true.
The cottage, as well, that’s also true, I think. I’ve only made the last bit of the story up – and there I think I had to. You see, some obsessions are just too dangerous to pursue.
The West Cornwall moors are a dangerous place to be when the mists come down and the storm clouds gather.
The narrow lanes disappear into the murky darkness, leaving the lone traveller lost and alone.
There are no people here when the mists come down, there is no life when the storm clouds brew. Just the mist and the hint of rain on the slowly gusting wind.
I had been riding here for years but had always taken care and this was the first time that I had been caught out in a storm.
The Storm is published in Different Roads (due to be published in February 2010). To find out more, take a look at… Different Roads
