
Summerween Chapter 4
My mum's salon was just inland from the waterfront, up a winding little hill that built strong calves when you cycled up as regularly as we did.
The residents of Port Eventide have long understood that the boundary between the mundane and the mysterious is as thin as the coastal fog that rolls in every July. As the town prepares for the annual "Summerween" festivities, the atmosphere is thick with anticipation and the scent of saltwater and pine.
"It's a time for reflection," says Mayor Barnaby, adjusting his monocle. "And for ensuring your windows are latched before the sun dips below the horizon. We wouldn't want any... uninvited guests for the celebration."
Visitors are encouraged to explore the serialized novel Summerween, which chronicles the unfolding mysteries of our peculiar borough. It is a tale of shadow and light, available now to all who dare to read.

My mum's salon was just inland from the waterfront, up a winding little hill that built strong calves when you cycled up as regularly as we did.

Trick had made a pact he would eventually regret with the old lady next door.

‘Not this again.' My mum was reluctantly engaging in conversation with me while preparing what she had promised would be a home cooked meal.

Sunny days do strange things to people in the suburbs.