So tonight I found myself at the gate of Llandaff Cathedral. I had somehow wandered up to The Village whilst cycling around and by Bute Park. I admired the abundant daffodils, daises and strange emerging buds. Blossom appeared here and there, pink and papery upon the pavement in the plastic glow of street lamps. At the top of a snaking path, I locked up my bicycle and had a sip of cold lemonade. Then I descended that stony path, slowly, carefully. Each step leading me closer to the front doors of that great Cathedral. Each step drawing me further into a stranger, paler, lessening light. Having got to the bottom I stood there before the huge doors. I could not make out much detail in the darkness, either of the Cathedral itself, or the path which ran beside it. I could make out a few jagged gravestones here and there upon the grass and could hear the rustling of leaves further along the path. I decided to go ahead and continue walking around the Cathedral towards the far end where I knew there was an exit. At that point I thought it was quite strange that I hadnt seen or heard anyone at all in the Village. Thinking about it, I hadnt seen a soul since leaving the Romilly pub. I considered the legend of The White Lady, a common and fascinating apparition, who has been sighted around and about Llandaff Cathedral and in the woods and fields beside it. I continued along the stoney path beside the Cathedral. As I walked further away from the light, deeper into the darkness, so did my fear begin to rise. An inexplicable dread began to fill my mind and I trembled with the cold. I was at the point of turning back, when I figured it was a shorter distance to the gate somewhere ahead of me, and so I quickened my step. I breathed a sigh of relief having nearly got there. I was almost at the gate when I was startled by a commotion behind me. There beneath the large stained glass windows were two red figures jumping and poking and swiping at the air manically with their long thin hands. They twisted their bodies in terrible contortions as they threw themselves against the cathedral walls again and again...all the while muttering in low guttural voices AB A RA HAB A RA YA YA YA...AB A RA HA BA RA ROO. I ran as fast as I could through the gates, and gasping for breath, made my way up the steep hill towards the road. I passed St Teilos well along the way, stealing a quick glance into its inky depths and wondering what dreadful horrors may lurk down there.
Posted on: Tue, 01 Apr 2014 22:17:42 +0000
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