by Priest » Tue Dec 24, 2013 2:48 pm
With much grunting, sweating but mindful of any language of a none to delicate sort, the three return to the task in hand.
Shortly with the application of various tools which they have obviously borrowed from various sources, they succeed in loosening the lid. Indeed the loosening is so sudden that one of them, the checked cap wearing individual whom it seems is named Stan, manages to bloody his knuckles on a twist of the crowbar that he is using. For a moment the air turns blue as he, in a response to the sudden pain, begins to unleash a tirade of curse words that would embarrass a Sargeant-Major of the Coldstream Guards.
His mouth filled with bloody knucles he doffs his cap and send an apologetic look in Nellie's direction, "Excuse me Ma'am, quite forgot meself, but it did blasted 'urt some"
Slowly the others lift the heavy looking iron lid away, revealing a dark circular opening with a series of rusted iron ladder rungs leading down. With the lid removed the surrounding air is filled with a most disgusting aroma.
"Ahh" says the youngest wiping his brow with the back of his hand, "London"
We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.
- Anais Nin