No, actually it was a crisp December day on the Fylde Coast. The weather had been clear and crisp with a wind that wasn’t shy in baring it’s teeth but it mellowed a little as the afternoon clocked on for its shift.
This change in the air between the land and the wide expanse of sand and water chased up a mist that drifted in like a regiment of lost souls. The atmosphere thickened, sounds became deadened and the light took on an ethereal glow as the sun began its end of duty decent.
The day became like the old time poker player who had finally got the winning hand, dark, shifty. Keeping it’s cards close to the chest taking everything in and letting nothing out.
Some Link Things.