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"Korktukça tutsak,

Pillars ~ Michael #writephoto

Every pillar had a story.

History was like that and not always kind in the memories it held.

The tears wept were held within each pillar as the past was captured within the marble and mortar.

The sixteen-year-old girl banished by her family to a life in the nunnery, the punishments metered out to extract penance from her, the unwanted affections of the Novice Mistress and the trauma of the…

Tales From the Crypt – Fandango #writephoto

The tour guide was explaining how these catacombs were once used as dungeons where the king would house enemies of the state and the skeletal remains on display are the actual bones of some of the prisoners.

“Oh, if these bones could talk,” Becky heard an eerie voice say in a hushed whisper.

“Did you hear that?” she said to her twin brother.

“Hear what?” Ben asked.

“Never mind,” Becky said,…

Remains – Michael #writephoto

Once a month the keeper of bones and artefacts would open the crypt and dust off the remains of Albert the Alchemist. He always marvelled at how the place, which was sealed, still attracted dust.

The dusting complete he would take a rag from his bag and spray it with his home made spray and wipe and clean the bones of the long dead Albert.

Unlike many of the remains he found as he worked his way…