The River Syke

My comment – I thought this was a story, but it is a tale, yes? The world will end soon when the old rivers are tourist attractions. Just under the surface are the old towns, cities, rivers, and their catacombs. I “work with” the Nagas / Mer and know they “love” us so much they want us to be with them, to bring them light and life, so much so they will take us to their nagaloka (realm of the Nagas and Mer) that they will drown us. I love them when the light is shimmering on their skin in the stream, but i have a great fear of drowning and cannot go into water over my chest and cannot swim. Good true and spooky tale which i will reblog so TY.

Fruits of Annwn

Syke StreetOn a rainy day in the not so-distant future, Tom, a tour-guide in training, decided to visit the city of Preston.

Great intrigue surrounded the town of priests, which had once been the Catholic capital of Lancashire. Every spire and street name told a story, from the cathedral of St Walburge to Friargate, to the catacombs beneath St Peter’s. Each had its relics and dealt in a great number of copies to tempt the less discerning tourist.

However, Tom was not interested in the rise and decline of Christianity. Neither did he care for the oral tales passed on by the city’s people such as the headless black dog that haunted Maudlands, the wicked fairy on the market with his tricksy ointment, or the Bannister Doll.

Tom had been led to Preston by a new myth about the underground river Syke.

This watercourse had run from present day Syke Street…

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