Wicga Ear 2/2

The hole’s origins must be to do with the canal. A man made well with no one to service. Strange how things like this exist. The perfect swimming pool for the Butter Mouse. He could float in the middle on a rubber ring.

Even now I know this is too obscure an idea for a children’s book. You would have to explain what the hole was, and why a canal is different to a river. By that point the story is over. No time for an adventure. A pond might work, but that's too close to the one where he goes swimming.

These ideas still bob around my head. All those potential tales. They do not care their days are over.

I pulled my fingers out, wiped them on my jeans, and peered in. Something spherical  floated below the foggy surface. Pink, like a joint prepped for a six guest Sunday dinner. Fleshy. A wooly black layer smothered one side. The lump rocked like a rotting ice cube in a layer of grease. 

I brushed dirt from my knees, and carried on. I had to assume this was some kind of unfortunate dead animal. A badger that had fallen in, and through a kink in putrefaction ended up resembling carnivore chewing gum.

The river deepened to a dark blue. Plants hid their faces behind brown leaves. A rusted ‘don’t swim!’ hung from a pole at a lazy angele. Criss-cross temporary fencing ran along the path, many wires twisted and broken.

The quickest way back to the car was through scrubby woodland. Something crunched and jangled behind the sycamores. Most likely the tones of mechanical work. This explained the hasty fence job by the track.

Wicga Ear is a wonderful spot. I hope any development involves creation rather than destruction at this site. However please be mindful near the water’s edge. 

::Whats all this meat about Barbara? I've searched for local meat packing businesses, and wholesale butchers. Nothing. I did not put this in the notes about, but there was something else in the water. A little white ball, like a clouded eye. I’ve highlighted it in the picture. 

I cannot call the police again. But neither can I interrupt my walks. 

Keep writing by moonlight is the plan. Smooth over these cracks. This draft will completed::