Will your story be in our tenth anthology? ... Four words which created a legendary story ... -~-~- Picture this: a mother and her four children walking through the streets of Edinburgh as the night begins to close in. They are looking for a room for the night, but each house is full. The stone buildings seem to grow darker as the streetlamps throw out as much shadow as light. Finally, one of the proprietors offers a positive response and the family hurry inside, into a cramped room with metal bunkbeds, but nonetheless comfy mattresses. Frightened at these new surroundings, concerned that she has brought her children into an unsafe surrounding, the mother puts the children to bed and tries to persuade herself to sleep. The room inside is darker than the putrid orange glow of the sporadic streetlights in the world beyond the curtains which are masking the window, and she once more checks the lock on the door before climbing into her own bed. Then it happens. Knock-knock-knock. Willing h...
The Bocksten Man (Photo Courtesy of Halland Museum of Cultural History) Over the last couple of weeks, I feel like I've got to know The Bocksten Man rather well, which is funny because I don't even know his name. But then, no one does. We all love a mystery. There is an age-old appeal to them, as people try to crack ancient codes, or unearth hidden tombs. But his mystery is far sadder. His is a mystery of death. When he was unearthed in 1934, people were amazed by how complete his possessions were. He has become an invaluable source for textile historians, with some of the most intact garments from his time (mid-1300s) in Europe. Definitely a useful find to pull out of the bog! But what really fascinates me - and many others - is who he was. This was an individual of note. Not necessarily a noble, but certainly someone who moved amongst them. His clothes were neat and well-made, and his gugel length (not a euphemism – a gugel was a cowl with a long tail) was of a design to sug...