• harveyvickie

A New Start

Up the twisting flight of stairs, past the dusty broken chairs, down the creepy corridor, to the rustic old oak door.


Sets the candle to one side, shoves and pushes -opens wide the groaning door into his room, lifts the candle, lights the gloom.


New spun cobwebs cover walls where its horrid maker crawls to his bedside - joining him, legs so hairy, dark and grim.


He was weary, far too tired; his first service, newly hired. To clean stables, muck them out, he felt lucky, without a doubt!



From that workhouse... free at last. All that horror in the past... when Lord and Lady did employ this little six -year -orphaned boy


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