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Trouble at the Mill

Prompt photo

The siren was calling us workers to work. The clatter of clogs on the wet cobbles was almost deafening. Down stairs the fire was banked up with slack, ready to be stirred into life. I knew the sink was a mess, but last night was different. As usual grandma sent us each to bed with a bowl full of hot milk containing pieces of toasted bread. The sounds outside slowly reduced until silence returned. All was quiet. The Spanish flu saw to that.

Footnote: My WordPress site is playing up at present. So my apologies if I am not able post any comments on other flash offering, until I get the hang of the changes to WordPress. Mike

A fine day at Mevagissey
This Post Has 12 Comments
  1. I shall remember the odd silence from this pandemic too, the lack of cars on the roads in particular. Unfortunately we have reverted back to life as normal without a second thought to changing our ways.

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