Happy Wensfriesday folks!
I’ve got a little piece of writing to share with you before the day ends.
Crowded chimney stacks belched out dark clouds of smog, coughing and coating the hunched buildings cowering below. Sluggish, and almost refrained in its attempts to shine, the sun pleaded with this wall of darkness to let it in. The smog refused. Instead, it slithered through the narrow streets, infusing itself into the porous walls and tattered doors of the overcrowded houses. It paraded down the dimly lit streets, barely visible in the yellowish street lights left on day and night to diminish the darkness. Those trudging wearily through the cobbled alleyways, carrying their musky smell with them, didn’t care. Where they were going, the long hours and strenuous labour blotted out all thought of light and comfort. Where they lived held that same damp hopelessness, so it didn’t matter either way. Such was the life of the hands working the mills in Manchester.
This setting was inspired by what I’m researching at the moment. It also inspired a task I set for my Writers who were told to describe the setting of an industrial city from the past and they came up with some great ideas. It was too tempting for me not to try my own hand at the same!