OF HUMAN WILLS AND HIGH HILLS
By Neel Anil Panicker
In theory, there are two ways you can go about living in picturesque Yorkshire Dale, the fantabulous mascot of the English countryside, dotted as it were with rolling landscapes of lush dales, windswept hills, deep ravines, large swathes of heather-covered moors and mind busting waterfalls.
If you were like the garrulous Margarets, the seven member Irish miner family who stayed in a two-roomed limestone house, or the Prestons, the septuagenarian couple who stayed in a barn alongside their fleet of three score sheep you would laugh and chirp and smile and walk the mile to socialise, flitting in and out of households, exchanging pleasantries besides the delectable honey cakes.
If you were like Richmond, on the other hand, and you had killed two backpackers and thrown their bodies into the 322 feet deep Gaping Hill, you wanted to be a recluse.
You kept to yourself, you said nothing.
If you were smart.
But Richmond wasn’t smart.
He blabbered to someone who blabbered to someone else who blabbered to the police.
©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #whatpegmansaw
Today Pegman visits Yorkshire Dales.
Feel free to stroll around using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.
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