When I came into the office this morning, there
was a fax message hanging out of the machine date-marked 04/04/2000 23:02,
but no sender in the header. It reads:
*
Well (I'll leave this in Times Roman). this was
meant to be.
This is Whitby. I'm in an old pub on the banks
of the harbour. The wind is battering at the window and tearing up the
surface of the water. I know the sea outside is whipped up into a frenzy (I
saw it today looking out toward the Holy Isle and Lindisfarne).
Imagine.
Or should I say
Remember
These stones have remembered it
all.
They gossip with the wind.
*
Why am I - a resident of Sydney, Australia -
receiving a mysterious message from Northumberland in the UK? I've looked up
my maps of Great Britain to try to identify the "harbour". Is it
Beal? From the map, there appears to be a causeway to Holy Island.
One of life's "little
oddities"...perhaps I should join the rest of the family, who are
downstairs watching the X-files on tv! To any UK members of the list: was
the weather rough on the East coast on 4/4? Does anyone know a Whitby who
turns his hand to verse? Is this his/her own work, or lines taken from a
well-known poem?
Yours in bafflement,
Viv Kitson