Something a little different today. I will still post a piece of my flash fiction but just wanted to share with you the inspiration behind the prose.
Yesterday, on my day off, I visited Muncaster Castle – primarily to resolve a direct debit issue from a couple of years ago. The lady I was told to talk to was not in, so I found myself wandering towards the castle’s church (it’s near the reception area I was directed to and in the opposite direction from Creeping Kate’s Tea Rooms). Before I knew it, I was taking a constitutional around the church’s graveyard, which in the brilliant afternoon sunshine looked different. Different than I remembered it, without actually remembering it, because this was the first time I had walked around this graveyard, because I had never been to a service in this church before. Then I saw this man kneeling in the most amazing sunlight, then I saw this gravestone, and this piece of flash fiction sprang from my fingers into my phone, and without me counting the words it was one hundred words long, exactly the right amount…
Kneeling before the gravestone, he closed his eyes and discerned patterns amidst the orange mould. Patterns which became sentence-shaped. But no words or letters materialised. Groaning, he pushed his palms together and repeated something as he rocked to and fro. The gravestone swayed. The orange mould swirled. Umpteen pink-tinged squares were revealed. These seemed like hieroglyphics until he opened his palms. Now his mind cleared of his words. Now the meaning of the hieroglyphics became clear. With their message in his mind’s eye, he reached for his brushes and began resurrecting the epitaph of his great great grandparents.