I keep missing write photo prompts where you write a piece about a photo.

This was taken at a grand house near Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire. I’m sorry I can’t remember the name of the building. What is important is that they rent out rooms for holiday let’s there.

Rachel ran down the stairs from her room and rushed out of the green door. It had happened again, the light had played a trick on her and she had seen a shadowy figure in the dust motes that danced in the beam of sunlight shining through the stained glass windows. She had decided to see if anyone was playing tricks with a mirror outside? How else could the image have been projected into her room?

But no one was there, not even the friendly female attendant who usually sat in the kiosk by the gate, selling tickets to tourists to visit the Abbey which stood in ruins only a quarter of a mile away.

She stepped back through the mossy green door. But not into the present. A stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed her. Figures scurried about carrying boxes, flowers, rushes for the lamps. She had gone back in time. A woman, who looked like a maid, shouted at her to move. He’s here, the King has arrived. Get on with your work. Fearful and panicking Rachel stepped backwards and fell, tripping off the step.

The kiosk lady stood over her. You OK dear? She asked…..