Sedge ran his finger across the shiny surface. Strange, despite it was wet, it wasn’t cold. He knuckle-rapped it. And neither had it the sound of ice. Yet there was his wren-stone visible within it, and someone’s lost arrowheads.
He twisted his lips, pulled on his beard, and humphed.
Had the magician erred? “Join me again to my wren-stone axe,” Sedge had asked. And here without doubt was the axe he’d lost in the reeds by the water. But here too was a strange land. Had the Travel-Fungi took him astray? Yet how so, when without a doubt, his wren-stone was here.
Noises. Voices. Sedge hid beneath the wood jetty that held the strange ice, not to be seen by the strange men.
Men? He spied them, wearing strange garb in flower-bright colours. No, demons they must be. Indeed, a strange land.
142 words
A selection of the mesolithic and neolithic tools and weapons found during the making of Whitlingham Broad. Quarried for aggregates for the Norwich Southern Bypass, it was subsequently allowed to flood; nature has since reclaimed it along with its environs.








