The wood trembled at the impact of the visitor’s declaration of arrival. “In truth it was but one of the many ways in which her husband was the result of her molding, but it was a beneficial bond for both.”īlackhall paused in his telling as a single great knock came at the makeshift cabin door, but an upright raft of timbers bound together with tightly woven reeds. Howard was the sort who made his way with a strong back and stronger opinions, though he rarely considered, until after her passing, that these opinions were little more than a parroting of his wife’s words.
“Now, operating the Globe was a supposed wise woman, Rhine Ande and her husband, Howard. “Some of them had even made a success of it, and thus the township had been born fifty years previous. “Though all trade flowed through the docks adjacent to the Globe – a venture serving as harbour, weighmaster, inn, public house, post office, and general store – the clay in the land and the fur in the weald was abundant enough to draw a steady stream of grain croppers and pelt collectors. “In the crook of a river’s bend there was a small town of perhaps a hundred heads called Otter Rapids – well, a hundred if you were generous and cast a wide net around the hunt cabins and bush farms that collected their mail in the town’s sole commercial establishment. Tonight, at long last, we discuss the dead of Otter Rapids.īeneath: a Thomas Blackhall Chronicle, Part 2 of 2īlackhall’s words began with the slow momentum of a man groping through memories, and he paused often to sip at his pine tea while it remained hot. This week’s episodes are brought to you by The Gatecast!įlash Pulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age – three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings. Tonight we present Beneath: a Thomas Blackhall Chronicle, Part 2 of 2 Welcome to Flash Pulp, episode four hundred and seventy-one.
0 kommentar(er)
