By

Guinevere Eden

The Prologue

April 30th 1984

The glittering sandstone of the Liverpool Cathedral bore a gothic presence across Liverpool’s River Mersey, while below, the polluted little river sparkled beneath the high afternoon sunlight. Slipping into the building’s cool interior, Evelyn Eden trailed behind her twin Elaine and their father.

From inside, they began the long ascent toward the vestry tower. Dragging the palm of her hand against the rough salmon-pink wall running up the side of the stone steps Evie enjoyed the cool, abrasive texture next to her skin. A detractor also from the pressing headache.

“Almost there.”

He sounded jubilant and Evie, counting the ninetieth stair out of one hundred and eight buckled beneath the terrible ache in her legs. A small opening stood at the top, casting light toward the trio’s feet. It meant they could stop soon.

Two steps behind her father.

“You can see all the way to Wales from up here.” He walked across the vast tower rooftop, the city, winding river and countryside exploding on all sides.

“Way over there.” He pointed to the left, black suit jacket punching a hole in the blinding sunlight.

“Ringo Starr lived over there.” He meant the Beatles drummer and continued stretching his arm toward the Dingle, a series of Welsh named streets winding toward the Albert Docks and the river.

“Your mother grew up around the corner from him. He had a yellow front door.” Still he talked about Ringo.

Breathless, Evie took her father’s hand, wishing her head did not hurt quite this much.

A feather brushing the side of the girl’s face teased a peculiar airborne lavender scent.

She pulled away.

“Happy Birthday Evelyn and Elaine, this is for you!”

She didn’t know what he meant. Clutching the feather, the child caught the bewildering sight of her father and Elaine climb to the very top of the gothic ledge. Stepping off, the pair vanished into the bright jewel of an April sky, black jacket flapping wildly behind them.

Precisely three hundred and thirty one feet below, somebody screamed.

Im liking this very much..

By

Guinevere Edern

The Prologue

April 30th 1984

The glittering sandstone of the Liverpool Cathedral bore a gothic presence across Liverpool’s River Mersey, while below, the polluted little river sparkled beneath the high afternoon sunlight. Slipping into the building’s cool interior, Evelyn Edern trailed behind her twin Elaine and their father.

From inside, they began the long ascent toward the vestry tower. Dragging the palm of her hand against the rough salmon-pink wall running up the side of the stone steps Evie enjoyed the cool, abrasive texture next to her skin. A detractor also from the pressing headache.

“Almost there.”

He sounded jubilant and Evie, counting the ninetieth stair out of one hundred and eight buckled beneath the terrible ache in her legs. A small opening stood at the top, casting light toward the trio’s feet. It meant they could stop soon.

Two steps behind her father.

“You can see all the way to Wales from up here.” He walked across the vast tower rooftop, the city, winding river and countryside exploding on all sides.

“Way over there.” He pointed to the left, black suit jacket punching a hole in the blinding sunlight.

“Ringo Starr lived over there.” He meant the Beatles drummer and continued stretching his arm toward the Dingle, a series of Welsh named streets winding toward the Albert Docks and the river.

“Your mother grew up around the corner from him. He had a yellow front door.” Still he talked about Ringo.

Breathless, Evie took her father’s hand, wishing her head did not hurt quite this much.

A feather brushing the side of the girl’s face teased a peculiar airborne lavender scent.

She pulled away.

“Happy Birthday Evelyn and Elaine, this is for you!”

She didn’t know what he meant. Clutching the feather, the child caught the bewildering sight of her father and Elaine climb to the very top of the gothic ledge. Stepping off, the pair vanished into the bright jewel of an April sky, black jacket flapping wildly behind them.

Precisely three hundred and thirty one feet below, somebody screamed.