In the last post: Sibyl warns Morris not to pick toadstools at midnight. Husminx, a ruthless lady troll, is after them too...
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Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 03
With a mammoth rucksack strapped to his back, and a wicker basket dangling in his hand, Morris staggered off towards the estate’s lake. On his way, he was unlucky enough to meet Alf, one of the Cloud Estate's two security guards. Alf was a giant, with bulging muscles and a battered head as featureless and flat as an old leather football. A dumpy little robot stood by his side, about the same height as Morris.
The real world:
Looking forward to seeing you here next year! Let’s make it a fun one! James.
In the last post: Morris, the Cloud Estate's gardener, surprises his wife, Sibyl, by remembering that on this night she would would want him to pick toadstools...
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 02
Sibyl, who stood by the kitchen’s stone sink, spun on her chunky legs to face her husband, Morris. "No, you mustn't. Not tonight."
"But," Morris slid his hands from his pockets and held them wide, "isn't this a full moon on the ninth day of September? Isn't this the only night in goodness knows how many years those toadstools you're always on about will sprout?"
Sibyl strolled across the tiled floor, wiped her podgy hands on her pinafore, and stroked Morris on his chin. "You're a kind man, and what you say is true. But this is also the night the lady troll, Husminx, will be out looking for the toadstools."
Morris sucked in his potbelly and stretching to his full height, backbone straight as one of his garden rakes. Even so, the top of his head only reached to Sibyl's broad shoulders. He took a step back, lifted his heels, and laughed. "There are no such things as trolls, especially in this part of the world."
"Yes there are, and you don't want to mess with this one. She's pretty, but if she thinks you're after her toadstools she'll tear your throat out and leave you for dead."
Morris brushed at the air, as if dismissing an irritating fly. "Don't you go worrying about me, sweetheart. If I should meet a troll, it’ll worse for her."
To be continued...
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 01
Morris sat on his potting shed steps and breathed slow and easy. Mansion life had many advantages: privacy among the best. He gazed around the garden in his care; it had been a good year; no hobgoblins to ruin his prize vegetables.
With eyes half closed, he chuckled at the idea of hobgoblins and the such. His garden thrived because of his skill, and in the unlikely event it should fail he wouldn’t blame his misfortune on imaginary evil spirits, like some people he knew would do.
He marvelled at the late summer sunset, the reddest he’d seen in years. Then he closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and smiled. At times, his wife, Sibyl, expected him to do the weirdest of tasks. There would be a full moon tonight and she would want him to traipse through the woods at midnight in search of toadstools.
The thought of rambling around in the woods late at night didn’t worry Morris. He could spend the night in a tent, beside the estate's small lake. Years had passed since he last camped out, and with silver moonlight bathing the landscape, the night would be fascinatingly mystical.
He strolled around the vegetable beds, past the herb garden, and into one of the mansion's back doors. It opened into a cavernous kitchen. Thinking he'd surprise Sibyl by remembering this special night, he said, "Make me a good packed supper, Woman. Tonight I shall go to the forest and pick those enchanted toadstools for you."
To be continued…
The real world:
Here's a little piece of my world in Norway's arctic. This picture of the moon was taken from my lounge window, at 11:00 am. This is as light as it gets until the sun returns at the end of January!
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A River in Darkness: One Man's Escape from North Korea by Masaji Ishikawa
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
To save the jobs of those in the Japanese government who helped him escape, Masaji Ishikawa wrote: “…obviously I wasn’t going to start talking to the press.” Instead, he wrote this mammoth best-selling book? Sorry, but I don’t believe this man’s autobiography can be true. If it is, then he is likely responsible for the sacking of those government officials who helped his return to Japan, and worse, expose his family to torture or execution in North Korea.
It may well be that he moved to North Korea in 1960, aged thirteen, where he lived until his escape in 1996. However, I rather believe his memoir is an over dramatised collection of exaggerated incidents he picked up from others. In which case, good for him.
I hope this is the case; otherwise, he puts himself in a poor light. From his book, he already comes across as egoistic, beating up anyone who upsets him and often leaving his family to starve while he runs off to find work to feed himself.
North Korea is undoubtedly not an agreeable place to live, but propaganda and false news flourish. The story in this book is captivating and mind-bogglingly tragic, hence four stars. I just don’t accept Mr Ishikawa’s life was as awful, or maybe I don’t want to believe, as he relates.
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James at Goodreads