The Lark
Published in

The Lark

The Comings and Goings of a Victorian Guest House

Short story

Photo by rushil shrivastava on Unsplash

I had to look three times before I saw the sign — “Oldford Station. This is it,” I said aloud; and pulling my heavy carpet bag from up upon the rack, I walked the corridor with left arm gull-winged for balance. Reaching the end of the compartment, I unhooked the strap that lowered the sash and leaned out to fumble at the slippery brass handle.

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Merton Barracks

Merton Barracks

I'm meandering. Some fiction and some rantings with an intermingling of the things that keep me going, slow me down or make me cry.