fbpx Southern England

Southern England

They soon found

two empty seats toward the middle section and sat. Still rattled from the experience, Sarah watched the skyline disappear in the distance.

          “It’s sad we’re leaving London,” she said, disheartened.

          “We’ll be back someday,” he insisted, trying to encourage her.

          “What do you think will happen to the professor?”

          “Hopefully Gowerstone will release him.”

          After settling into their seats, they actually felt safe for the first time in days. There was a calm serenity as the train rumbled southeast toward Canterbury.

          Tom rested, and Sarah watched the scenery rush by the window: a crumbling castle perched on a hilltop, an old abbey weathered by time and lonely cottages scattered throughout the countryside. There were tiny canals crisscrossing the landscape; emerald meadows surrounded by marshlands; cows and other animals grazing in the open fields.

     Thirty minutes later,

          the train crossed the River Medway and flew by the seaport of Rochester, its impressive Norman fortress still guarding the nearby harbor.

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