Author: D.Irving, Word Count: 666
Written for, but missed and so did not feature in Spooky Archaeological Story Moot: Live Stream – 2025
Alex was getting annoyed, while the last few years working with Little Flower had been highly informative if not slightly controversial, many of his colleagues now considered him to be insane rather than just mad, this latest revelation had left him gobsmacked. The subject this time was his mothers tomb, commonly known as a court or horned cairn Little Flowers insistence that it was in fact a uterus and the ultimate in returning to mother earth was just too much, the fact that he wrote it off as ‘well that’s men for you’, and as just another example of the patriarchy imposed by ‘modern’ man rankled.
It had taken the best part of the summer to uncover the cairn and now Alex sat before the newly opened entrance, Little Flower had given very specific instructions on where his mother would be so Alex, trying hard not to think about what he was crawling along, made his way inside, his bio suit catching and snagging on the walls. Phone held before him Alex entered the wooo, main chamber, his mind protecting its already fragile self interjected, making his way to the farthest stall he paused, Little Flowers mum was called Evening Sun and she was remarkably well preserved, in addition to her skull most of her skeleton seemed to be present, intermingled with it were hundreds of beads and shells. With great care Alex selected a tarsal, bead and shell popping them into sample bags before sealing them all in a second, outer bag. After some careful thought he picked up another tarsal, tucking it carefully inside the hood of his suit he made his way outside.
Little flower met him about halfway back to the pub, he was pale and tended to fade occasionally but he was dancing with joy and regaling Alex with tales of his mothers loving nature, knowledge of plants and herbs, cooking skills and general wholesome motherliness with increasingly frequent ‘is she here yet’ ‘s thrown in.
They were about a half mile from the pub when Alex began to feel odd, he kept thinking back to his school days and the tweed clad matron who could make the mightiest rugby player feel like a three year old standing beside a suspicious puddle and he wanted a cup of tea, really strong tea.
“You’re mum quite a strong willed lady”
“ach ay, she cud talk the trews o’a rock”
“Liked a cup of tea”
“weeel sort ‘a, she was a right one for herbs an’ a’ that, some of her brews could make a did mon stand if ye ken me meaning” he replied with nudge, nudge, wink, wink that Eric Idle would have been proud of.
They parted ways in the bar, Alex having wedged the tarsal into the same crack as little flowers tooth took himself off for his dinner.
Something, apart from his bladder, woke him in the dead of the night, outside the wind had picked causing his caravan to shake slightly, the rocking motion of the caravan was strangely soothing and Alex soon found that fuzzy place before sleep when the night was rent by a scream so primal and guttural that it defied description.
“Nooooooooooooooootheboooooooooooooooooooozenoooooooooooooooooooooomabooze”
Alex threw on some wellies and rushed into the pub where Little Flower was on his knees before a rather large lady, her arms were folded under her bosom and she had a tight black bun on the back of her head.
“Wit ye dun ye daft bugger it’s the drow no me Ma!”
“Hwhat did you call me you useless excuse for a son in law, hwhat my precious Polyanthus saw in you I’ll never know.”
“Alex mon, Alex, pal, I need yer help, can ye no see I’m sufrin here, she says I can’na have a drink!”
Alex looked at Little Flower with sympathy, “I’m sorry but I make it a rule not to interfere in family arguments” With that he turned and left, his smile hidden in darkness.
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