Well after one week on holiday and almost one week off line with a broken modem it seems like an age since I was last here.
I will now have to spend quite a time catching up etc.
So, for now I will upload a couple of our lovely, lovely holiday piccies and a story that I have just had published on Shortbread
The Northern Lights
(Fan Fic Alert – this has a bit of a nod to George RR Martin and his White Walkers.)
I don’t know who you are but there are things I must ask of you. First though, thank you for discovering these papers. I can’t know what else you have found, what is left of me up here in this lonely place. If what you have seen will haunt your nights and torment your mind then I am deeply sorry, I would not have wished for that.
Please, if you can, take the envelopes in this box and post them for me. They are for my family in London. My dear family who didn’t want me to come. They never understood my need to travel alone to this remote part of Sweden. They had long despaired of my incessant drive to seek out and see the wonder that is the Aurora Borealis. Please send them my letters. They carry my love and my regret for the hole I have torn in their quiet lives because of my obsession with natural phenomena.
I have been a seeker of nature’s blessings for years and have reaped bounty upon bounty. I have thrilled at the vision of comets fizzing through the heavens. I have watched burning dawns flood scarlet deserts, blue moons and dark eclipses of the sun that caused the birds to roost and the world to chill in the middle of a summer day. I swam with rainbows of fish over reefs of glowing coral and I have walked into a glacier and marvelled at its cerulean beauty. I have seen the green flash at sunset and the flight of cranes against the autumn sky. My heart soared as I played with dolphins in tropical waters that twinkled with the glitter of magic. Always alone, no dilution of the experience. There has been so much more and yet for me the crowning glory was to be the Northern Lights.
I meant no harm. I wished to take nothing with me save my memories and photographs and, like the careful traveller I have always been I tried to tread gently on the precious earth. I don’t know what I did. I don’t understand.
As I write this now, I can hear them. The low, low hum of them coming and I have no more matches and the fire has died. I have no light save that of the gibbous moon and I can hear them coming.
Last night I fended them off with burning brands. They are afraid of flame. I pray that whoever you are you have fire. Guns are of no use, knives are helpless. There was a rifle here when I arrived. In a box and intended for protection. It was no protection; only the blaze of living flame fought them back.
If you still have daylight, leave now. Do not waste a second. Do not believe that you will be safe, even if you are with a group. Their numbers swell until the forest is obliterated by them and the air is alive with the thrum of their steps.
Oh leave, leave now and take my letters and tell them of the horror that is here and tell them that none must come. Tell the world that these forests and these magnificent, sparkling fields are cursed and must be left to the terror that walks the snow.
May heaven help you and deliver you safely from here. I am going to go out and face them tonight, I will not meet my fate cowering in the corner like a whipped dog but I am sore afraid. Pray to your God for my soul.
I am going.