Thursday, July 30, 2009

New Project.

For a change of pace, I'm going to begin posting little snippets of fiction - a diabolical ploy to get me to commit to a story and finish it. Hopefully it'll work, I figure I'll post a few paragraphs each time, and build it up into something somewhat resembling a short story.
I present to you my current piece of fiction.



There was an uneven number of grand old oak trees lining the street of Westlaw Lane. Rising to the clouds, they cast a shadow during the day and blocked out the moon during the night. They curved inward under the strain of a hundred years, and created a mistakenly romantic passageway for any unsuspecting passer-by, a potentially fatal mistake to make. The greenery had but one hole in it’s otherwise impenetrable wall; the stub of a tree trunk which sat Dotted in-between the trees were great stone walls and arching metal gates, and behind them, the most decadent town houses one could ever hope to find. And yet if you were unfortunate enough to walk down this lane, you would note that not one of these great walls or arching gates had any locks or handles to be seen - as if they had been built once upon a time to be forever separate from the rest of the world.
At the end of the Lane, set far back from the five or six other houses, stood McMahon Manor. Built at the turn of the century, its spires and peaks pierced the sky with grey shingles and decaying brown brick - it’s wooden trim peeling and hanging by the odd rusty nail.

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