I had never heard the term Mudlark, but I was one. I poked along the foreshore of the abandoned shipyard: bolts, a bronze twist, a makers plate off an old boiler. The prize? A small ship’s bell. The bronze made a fine clapper.
What a sweet sound to hear along the shore.
Discover more from Louis N. Carreras, Woodcarver
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
What a gorgeous little narrative, Lou. You packed so much information into this compact story, making use of each word beautifully well. I love the last line:
“What a sweet sound to hear along the shore.”
Well done!