Excerpt from book of no working title 🙂
Frank looked around the poorly lit octagonal hall its walls covered in art that read like a history book of British dictatorship. A grand ornate chandelier hung redundantly from the ceiling emitting a dull light that attempted to penetrate the deep layers of dust that had settled upon it.
‘So, The Houses of Parliament. I’ve always wondered what this place looked like on the inside.’ Poppy said.
‘We have not called it that in a long time.’
Frank turned toward the voice. June Whitbread stayed hidden in the shadows for a moment longer. Four soldiers stepped into the light.
‘No? So what do you call it then?’ Poppy said looking directly into shadow from which the soldiers had appeared.
‘Please, we just want refuge.’ Frank said.
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