Always think of this bit of landscape as archetypally @hookland.bsky.social, kind of in-between, neither one thing nor the other. Pockets of old industry, rurality, modernity, old martyrs and abandonment.

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The only way for this death to be averted is for the interrupter to learn how the Child of The Ford died and make them an apposite gift as sign of compassion and fellowship in that community of grief that is our price for living and loving whilst alive and after. – George Kindred, ‘Haunted Hookland’

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From such river lore comes the stories of Children of the Ford. Pale and pitiful spirits of the crossing, they weep constantly. If interrupted in their sorrow by an asking of what is causing distress, they will taunt by giving the name of someone close to the interrupter who will soon die.

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In Hookland folklore, rivers and all their tributaries are highways for spirits. For not all souls travel by the county’s corpse roads. Some swim, some float. This makes the confluence of streams and old fords potent places of sorcery, powerful places of peril.

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SPREAD ME is in People Magazine!

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