You can check Sue’s original post on this week’s photo challenge here:
There should be some really interesting entries this week, so much to see in the picture and ponder over!
The Grandfather Clock stood silently in the corner.
It had stopped at a quarter to midnight, as depicted by the cute little moon and sun on the inner dial which reflected night, not day.
The steps into the basement weren’t quite steep enough to warrant additional aid to climb or descend, even for small legs.
It was cool down there too.
Probably why everything was in such good condition, as if time had stood still.
The suit of armour had stood sentry behind the pillar, unseen from the top of the stairs during their game.
It was also a good hiding place, one where no-one would ever find him.
And no-one did.
None of the older children had dared to venture downstairs, afraid of ghost stories told in the dark or half-light of Restless Spirits and the Undead.
With the innocence of the child he was, he had clambered inside, wrapped his noo-noo round himself and fallen asleep.
For no reason, the clock started to tick again.
With a yawn, he stretched and touched cool metal, then realised where he was.
He was a little stiff, but still warm, once again his noo-noo and protector had kept him safe.
He could see a light at the top of the stairs, and went up to join the rest of the birthday party.
His mother screamed before fainting dead away.
His father staggered against the dresser in shock.
At the stroke of midnight, he realised they were probably very angry with him for not being tucked up in bed at that hour.
He had no idea at all that ten years had passed since 11.45 pm on that fateful day when they were led to believe that their youngest son had fallen into the adjacent river and swept away whilst playing hide and seek at his sixth birthday party.