By Quarry Lake
“Tommy had thought that here at least he’d be safe. Be able to pick up the threads of his old life, pre-university. Pre running-away-to-London. Because nothing ever changed in sleepy rural Somerset, did it?
But what he remembered as a joyful, gurgling river now was little better than a stagnant ditch, the rocks in its path barely causing a ripple on the glassy surface of the water. The moss line on the far bank revealed just how much lower the water was running than usual. All these weeks withou...t rain, the sun beating down mercilessly. It had been bad enough back in the city, but he’d expected relief from the stifling heat out in the countryside.
Yeah, like that was the only reason he’d wanted to get back here.
Did Rob even know he was back?
And if he did, would he care?
Tommy sighed and trudged down the pathway. The year-round mud of his youth was now a hard, cracked surface, the only remnants of the boggiest places a shrinking area of sticky, clay-like mud. It was meant to be cooler here in the woods.MoreLess
But what he remembered as a joyful, gurgling river now was little better than a stagnant ditch, the rocks in its path barely causing a ripple on the glassy surface of the water. The moss line on the far bank revealed just how much lower the water was running than usual. All these weeks withou...t rain, the sun beating down mercilessly. It had been bad enough back in the city, but he’d expected relief from the stifling heat out in the countryside.
Yeah, like that was the only reason he’d wanted to get back here.
Did Rob even know he was back?
And if he did, would he care?
Tommy sighed and trudged down the pathway. The year-round mud of his youth was now a hard, cracked surface, the only remnants of the boggiest places a shrinking area of sticky, clay-like mud. It was meant to be cooler here in the woods.MoreLess
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