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Worse Than Funnel Webs – Friday Fictioneers.

The cousins were done swinging from Grandma’s clothes line, and were heading under the house.

Of course, they weren’t allowed. “Funnel Web spiders”

“As if!” Jack mocked, picking the lock.

They put on their head torches and Tilly pulled out her iPad. Live streaming, Jack launched into his spiel: “Today, the Four Musketeers are at the haunted house.”

Will made ghost noises. Tilly screamed, before bursting into hysterics.

Fumbling in the dark, Indy flicked on a light.

Their screams launched an immediate Police response.

Grandma wasn’t joking. She really did grind up naughty children and sprinkle them on her Weetbix.

Rowena Curtin

This is another contribution to Friday Fictioneers where we write a 100 word or less response to a photo prompt. This week’s PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

This photo was taken inside the watermill at Sacrewell Farm near Peterborough.  Built in 1755, it remained a working mill until 1965

The inspiration behind my story comes from a family gathering held at my grandparents’ house after my cousin’s christening. The usual thing was for us kids was to be “not seen and not heard” and it was pretty easy for us put our hands out to chatting adults and raise enough money to hit the local milk bar at the top of the hill. They loved us but they also liked to get rid of us in the kindest possible way, of course!

However, at my cousin’s christening myself and about ten other cousins and second cousins all piled onto my grandmother’s clothes line (what we in Australia call a “Hill’s Hoist”.) Needless to say, with that many kids hanging off it, the trunk snapped and it became the “Leaning Clothesline of Lindfield” after that. I think it might have been held back together with rope.

My cousins and I frequently snuck under the house where there was a passageway through the sandstone foundations. My grandparents had lived there for over 35 years at this point and it seemed that anything old, broken, not in current use, ended up under the house. It was like Aladdin’s Cave. Of course, we weren’t allowed down there but now that I’m a parent myself, I can appreciate those golden moments of uninterrupted conversation, even if I do have to deal with the carnage later.