Up here it's cold, nothing to shelter me from the weather. I remember summer days when we use to play on these path ways, our dad carrying a bag filled with food and we would chase the dog through the vast open fields.
The castle was set up on top of a hill, watching over the whole town. You could see my house from the arch way, a tiny spot in the distance.
Mow cop use to be open to everyone, you could climb the small steps of the turret and look out the window at the top. Now it's blocked off with a wire fence with a sign saying 'danger' even the paths were fenced in, no more playing in the fields and rolling down the hill. I use to give my mum a fright when I wandered too close to the edge of the cliff, the rocks like stepping stones begging to be played on. There was never any fear back then I could play where I wanted, no fences or signs telling me no. We were free to play and run, to climb as high as we dared.
YOU ARE READING
A collection of Short stories
Short Story***Longer pieces at the end (word count in brackets) **** So over the last three years I've been at University completing a Creative writing degree. Over this time I have wrote a lot of short pieces of work (as exercises as well as just for fun) T...
