This was one of the postcard exercises.
Topiary.
Felicity followed the path through the park as it wound between clumps of straggly rhododendron bushes. Weeds had grown up through the gravel and the lawns needed cutting. The whole garden felt neglected and ignored, yet the yew trees ahead of her were impeccably groomed, clipped into strange and fabulous shapes by an expert hand. There were pyramids and towers and horses, squat round cottage loaves and a pair of tall slender figures with spiky heads rising above the others. Behind them a copse of tall birches blocked out the sun, casting long shadows like giant fingers reaching out for her.
Felicity shivered. She didn’t like this place. There was something wrong about it. Why had she come? She’d known it was a bad idea, but she continued walking slowly towards the dark green trees.
A flicker of movement to one side made her stop and look back. One of the towers had moved. But that was silly, trees didn’t move, except in movies. And, she told herself firmly, those were not goose-bumps on her arms and her spidey-sense was not tingling. She was totally and completely calm. She carried on walking, faster than before, her whole body on high alert.
Something rustled behind her and she whipped round.
The tower wasn’t there. A horse stood in its place. It was watching her, waiting for her next move. She tried to run, but her feet were too heavy. They were stuck to the ground. Her heart was beating faster and her veins were full of ice. This was ridiculous. She was just tired and her eyes were playing tricks. She closed them for a moment.
When she opened her eyes again, the shadows had grown darker and the trees had closed in on her. They were all around her, looking down on her, watching silently. Felicity hadn’t seen them move! Her body was frozen, but her mind wasn’t. What was happening to her?
A gap opened up on her left and she could move again. She walked, no, she ran towards it. The yews parted, forming a path between them. She had no choice. They were herding her, but why? In front of her stood a wooden structure with a ladder, like a giant tennis umpire’s chair, taller than the yews.
There was nowhere else to go. Felicity climbed the ladder faster than she would’ve believed possible. When she reached the top, she heard a sound like hundreds of soldiers coming to attention. She looked down.
Two rows of yews lined up below her. They were waiting. Across the lawn were two more rows of yews, these covered in red berries. Another wooden tower loomed behind and a figure stood at the top.
And the topiary shapes made sense – a castle at either end, then two knights, two pyramid-shaped bishops, the king and the queen. In the front were eight cottage-loaf pawns. Felicity knew what she had to do.
‘Pawn to King Four,’ she said.
One of the pawns moved forward and a knight came from the other side to meet it.
The yew trees wanted to be played.
Topiary.
Felicity followed the path through the park as it wound between clumps of straggly rhododendron bushes. Weeds had grown up through the gravel and the lawns needed cutting. The whole garden felt neglected and ignored, yet the yew trees ahead of her were impeccably groomed, clipped into strange and fabulous shapes by an expert hand. There were pyramids and towers and horses, squat round cottage loaves and a pair of tall slender figures with spiky heads rising above the others. Behind them a copse of tall birches blocked out the sun, casting long shadows like giant fingers reaching out for her.
Felicity shivered. She didn’t like this place. There was something wrong about it. Why had she come? She’d known it was a bad idea, but she continued walking slowly towards the dark green trees.
A flicker of movement to one side made her stop and look back. One of the towers had moved. But that was silly, trees didn’t move, except in movies. And, she told herself firmly, those were not goose-bumps on her arms and her spidey-sense was not tingling. She was totally and completely calm. She carried on walking, faster than before, her whole body on high alert.
Something rustled behind her and she whipped round.
The tower wasn’t there. A horse stood in its place. It was watching her, waiting for her next move. She tried to run, but her feet were too heavy. They were stuck to the ground. Her heart was beating faster and her veins were full of ice. This was ridiculous. She was just tired and her eyes were playing tricks. She closed them for a moment.
When she opened her eyes again, the shadows had grown darker and the trees had closed in on her. They were all around her, looking down on her, watching silently. Felicity hadn’t seen them move! Her body was frozen, but her mind wasn’t. What was happening to her?
A gap opened up on her left and she could move again. She walked, no, she ran towards it. The yews parted, forming a path between them. She had no choice. They were herding her, but why? In front of her stood a wooden structure with a ladder, like a giant tennis umpire’s chair, taller than the yews.
There was nowhere else to go. Felicity climbed the ladder faster than she would’ve believed possible. When she reached the top, she heard a sound like hundreds of soldiers coming to attention. She looked down.
Two rows of yews lined up below her. They were waiting. Across the lawn were two more rows of yews, these covered in red berries. Another wooden tower loomed behind and a figure stood at the top.
And the topiary shapes made sense – a castle at either end, then two knights, two pyramid-shaped bishops, the king and the queen. In the front were eight cottage-loaf pawns. Felicity knew what she had to do.
‘Pawn to King Four,’ she said.
One of the pawns moved forward and a knight came from the other side to meet it.
The yew trees wanted to be played.