Hey, Karen and Josh, thank you for posting one of my favourite places in the Lake District for this week’s What PegmanSaw…Heard…Felt challenge, and for the talented tag. I am still a blushing. I hope all your truly talented and wonderful globetrotting writers find their muse inspired by the beauty and history of this place.
My muse, dear readers, went in a most peculiar direction this week… I hope you all find it enjoyable and worth the couple of minutes it will take you to read.
Kelvin M. Knight
Watching those shadows from the stone circle reaching for him, Conor wanted to shiver. Shivering was not allowed. He looked at his father pinning his arms. His face was this stone circle. Conor regarded his mother who was covering his mouth with her hands. There was something in her eyes he hadn’t seen before, something sparkling yet wet. Wetness filled his father’s tribes’ voices, as their wails slapped this lake. They then danced around Conor, under these shadows and over them, these shadows which became fingers of darkness.
Something touched Conor, squeezed him, entered him. Stiffening, he saw scales everywhere: blue ones, red ones, silver ones sparkling as they rippled across this water’s blackness. Where the scales pooled, a fish appeared, one big enough to keep them fed for a year.
Limbs thrashing, Conor splashed into the stone circle and slithered to where he saw himself in this his lake.
This week What Pegman Saw took us to Coniston Water, Lake District, England © Google Maps
Other contributors’ stories can be found by clicking the la’al blue froggy button below.