A blurred face against a grey sky. Words I couldn’t understand. Slowly the burning pain in my leg and sensation of wet clothes against my skin returned.
Can you move lass? Come on now.
The voice was familiar. My eyes focused and I shrank back as I recognised the pub barman.
If you’ve just stumbled on this blog, and are wondering what you’ve missed, welcome. I’m attempting to write a ghost story one tweet (280 characters or less) at a time. You can catch up with it as one continuous story here. My original plan was to write approximately 5000 words or 100 tweets… but here we are and it’s not finished yet! If you’ve stayed with me so far – and you know who you are – thank you! I’m aiming to schedule instalments every weekday morning and evening, working my way round to the conclusion in the not too far distant future, so hang in there!