Now all that was left of it were the stone cubes that had been rooms and halls.
Not many people knew about it since it was tucked away behind a forest off the A1101.
The only indicator that it was even there was a small wooden signpost with its name.
The Brotherhood of St Wiomad, Thorpe Larch Monastery.
Some of the stone blocks had been individual buildings of some sort, not associated
with the actual monastery but wearing the same mark that resembled a horizon.
These were always sealed off, some with small windows, others just stone squares.
Through every window a single gravestone could be seen with faded writing all over.
Not a single inch of stone was unmarked and none of it legible, possibly not even English.
The plaque in the car park said that according to local legend the stones were marked by
angels, or at least something that the monks had thought of as angels.
Their brotherhood was recorded in other sources as having distinctly un-Catholic
practices, most noticeably human sacrifice and the worship of many sub-gods.
The disappearance of this small order is thought to have occurred around the same time
that the gravestones were carved and placed though this has yet to be confirmed.
The last person to touch the stones refuses to talk about it, only saying they aren't stone.
When plied with enough drink at a nearby pub he confessed that they were too warm to
be stone, pulsing underneath his hand like they were breathing.
He rambled on and on about the writing on the wall where the window was, where he entered.
He'd made notes and after a few more drinks he took me to his home and gave me his notes.
I'm sure he won't remember it and as fascinating as his sketches are, the actual writing in
his notepad makes no sense whatsoever, like the scrawls could be words if you squinted.
Looking too long at his writing made my eyes itch and my vision swirl.
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