Mysteries…

*

“You’ll know it,” he said, “by the stone stairs and the hawk’s head over the lintel.”

I was expecting a carving, or a painting, or possibly even, an offering, not half a cliff-face…

Nevertheless, it had still been a bugger to find.

The light was fading when I tip-tipped down the stone steps and stood before the crudely imposed entrance.

I stepped inside…

A dim glow lit the interior and the odour of old incense, clung…

He stood and turned, a huge bull of a man.

“What took you so long?”

“I got here as quick as I could.”

“Coffee?”

*