Cinders by Simon Pugh

There was a very old and dusty child's shoe found up a chimney in a chapel house called 'Hepsibah', which was said to stop evil spirits from entering the house... what would possess someone to write a note such as I found at the back of that very same hearth, burned and aged by time?

'Ok, I haven't much time; she's coming back in... looking for that which she left behind, that which she lost as she lost more than she'd ever had. She won't find it... before she finds me. I wait for her knowing, although she knows not my name, she knows not who or when I am. She can pass now; she's been looking to this day since she was taken...since she stepped too far, too high, too deep to turn back.

She had the world at her feet, it was close and claustrophobic and she was rising to the pitch black of the voices so dark that the only way out was the way she'd got in... but that too was now closing, the light getting smaller and she climbed further, the direction was lost to the dark... what had she got herself in to?

The brick brushed its cobwebs, scotching her pale skin, the blood... black as the pitch of the voices still rising. She closed her eyes as tight as she found herself, stuck and struggling onto the ledge where she was to step out of a shoe and beyond, there was no way back, barefoot; she was to meet her demons...

It was black, I knew not who she was, but as I gathered dust on the ledge, I was the sweep. I wait for her now to return, to return what's rightfully hers. The clock strikes twelve, who knows how many bells have tolled, their stories now forgotten in centuries past since the child disappeared. The night however is still young here at Hepsibah chapel house. There is no evil known to have crossed the ledge where they met the girl. Should I remove the shoe? Should I let her pass ?

I feel a barefoot... it's kicking at my hand...her nails scratching at my eyes, though I see nothing in such pitch black. The soles of her feet pound at my aching head, her black toes searching the dark for that which she lost, a chance to return, to live once again, She kicks...the shoe falls through the bottomless pit of the dark chimney and to the hearth, a fire now burns and catches it's light, I catch at her ankle, she screams and again the pitch black voices are released, I must remove the other shoe, she must not be allowed to pass. The flames rise alighting my descent, nobody shall ever miss me if I stay with her...my cinders.'

Story written by Simon Pugh

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