The stories that came down from up the muddy lane
The village had been alive with rumours and half hidden tales of the ancient boy who lived up this lane for as long as anyone could remember. His wife had looked after me and my brothers and sister when we were wee but after she died he became a reclusive figure to be feared. You'd see him in the summers only, clearing the roadsides so the heavy showers could drain away and warning us of the "faeries" . In winter...we never saw him and didn't know what he did!