THE SERF
The new
labourer is an odd bloke. He was mixing cement by hand till I showed him how to
use the mixer. Mind you, the brickies claimed his cement was the best they’d
ever used, so he knows his job.
Took some
persuading to wear a hard-hat, too, and his clothes are weird, but he’s a grafter –
looked shocked when we stopped for a brew-up, and can you believe he’s never
tasted tea? Said serfs weren’t given such luxuries, and Den asked him where he
came from.
“This place,”
he said, “Before cannons destroyed it.”
Fair gave
me the shivers, that did.
.................................................................................
I always sense the ghosts when I visit a ruin, hence this week's story prompted by Roger Bulltot's photo on https://rochellewisoff.com/ where Rochelle holds court.
As I am flying off to Canada on Friday to visit my son and his family, I apologise in advance for a) my lack of comments on other FF blogs, b) delayed or absent replies to any comments you are kind enough to make on mine, and c) my probable absence from FF for the next two weeks. Be good while I'm gone!
