by Paul McLeod
Each house has a different colour, each house is painted a different colour.
One house is yellow, one house is pink, one house is red, one house is blue, one house is green and one house purple. Continue reading “Street Description”
This street is in a very peaceful, picturesque part of the countryside. The village is just outside Skipton in the Yorkshire Dales. The house is the creamy coloured one near the middle and has four front windows and a front door, and has a light brown coloured tiled roof with two driveways. Continue reading “Lawnington Village”
It exploded in screaming and panic and explosive language and a little to late headcounts. Accusations from all angles ad everyone forced to account for their actions. Nobody was to blame but everybody was guilty of being distracted for just a moment too long. Our street was the last place anybody expected anything terrible to happen and yet we were all suspects.
Two boys, five and six.
Missing. Continue reading “Williams Crescent”
At number 1, Mrs Murgatroyd – a retired primary head teacher – now a school inspector for North Devon District Council. She has a disabled husband and two daughters, Polly and Lucy, and three grandchildren. Continue reading “Chivenor Road”
I was knackered. Working four closes in the pub had done me in. I kept getting on at Trev to help out a bit more, but he’s a lazy bugger; always chatting with the barmaids, rather than changing the barrels. Typical bloke. I’m sick of him, to be honest. Continue reading “Queen Street”
The day of the street party had finally arrived. Poppy Lewis was dressed immaculately, with the assistance of her partner Avril Jones.
“You do look rather fetching, Poppy,” complimented Avril.
“Well, let’s get out there and party, Avril.” Continue reading “Parker Street”