It was Christmas Day. The day had passed with the usual jollities, and darkness had fallen outside. All was eerily still and quiet apart from the hiss and bubble of the river on its eternal journey. On the horror film that we had just started to watch, a girl was being chased by something through the woods. Would she make it into the house? You could almost hear the breathing of her pursuer on the back of the girl's neck...
And then there was this almighty banging on the windows of our cottage...
Frozen in the light from the film, we stared wide-eyed at one another in disbelief. Our hearts had almost stopped. And it came again. BANG BANG BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG BANG! Who, or what, was banging on the living room window? Twinned with the horrifying realisation that our lounge is on the upper floor of the cottage! Was this creature at our window suspended in mid-air? Or was it some terrible spectre that was so tall that it could beat the window with it's bony fingers...
Actually, no, it was our neighbours letting off fireworks!
We ran outside onto the balcony, suddenly all very brave now, and enjoyed the spectacle.
It was all a bit of a squib after the initial heart somersaults. There was only one more firework which did bang bang bang bang, and was pretty, but that was the last. And the film...well it was quite a scary film, but it seemed pretty lame after we had exercised the terrors of our own imagination.
And then all was eerily still and quiet apart from the hiss and bubble of the river on its eternal journey.
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