Tuesday Tales: From the Word STRONG

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. This week our word prompt is STRONG. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones. Enjoy!

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but someone is interested in buying land on Lewis, specifically where there are unprotected menhirs. They’re working through a numbered company, but whoever they are, they’re Scots. They’re not the ones who run the Tarbert Quarry on south-western Lewis, nor are they involved with the quarrying on North Uist, Banacula, South Uist, or Barra, but they are after Lewisian Gneiss. The stone is in high demand by the building industry. The monoliths are pure gneiss, and if there are stones above the earth, there has to be more beneath it. If those standing stones are your inspiration, then you may be running out of time. Calanais and a few others will be safe enough since they’re part of the National Trust, but the old laird made a point of keeping his stone circle private.”

The blood drained from his face, and the whisky soured on his stomach.

He squeezed the crystal tumbler, fear and fury warring within him.

“You can’t be serious. There would be strong opposition to such a move. The authorities would never allow it. All of those stones are a sacred part of our heritage.”

“I’m not so sure there’s anything they can do. By not allowing his stones to be registered, the old laird may have dealt them a deathly blow. There are two potentially destructive possibilities here. First, you fail in your bid to secure the stones for yourself, and Lady Fraser sells the land to them when her year is up, or second, she fails to remain the year, and some distant relative with no love for Lewis stakes a claim to it under the ancestral act and sells it to the highest bidder.”

Jerome had drained his glass. “That can never happen.”

“In the words of Charles Dickens in the Pickwick Papers, ‘Never say never.’ I looked up the obituary for Hugh Fraser. There was no mention of Eileen or Marina, although there was a photograph of the woman taken near those stones of yours in one of Hugh’s articles. She wasn’t a beauty like the woman you drew, but she did have red hair and blue eyes. Who knows? Maybe she’ll look enough like your mystery woman to get you to reconsider your position on courting her—that is unless some enterprising younger man doesn’t get to her first.”

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.