The Place That Never Existed by Jim Ody

Author:Jim Ody [Ody, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Question Mark Press
Published: 2019-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

THE PLACE THAT NEVER EXISTED

Chapter Twenty-Four

D hara loved photography, but she was currently an enthusiastic blogger spending all of her free time writing articles about everything a twenty-something female would want to know about. She wanted it to be widespread and available to everyone, but when you are a dark-skinned British/Muslim then you cannot help but cater for this demographic first. If you don’t appeal to them—the ones you know the most about—then how can you hope to appeal to others?

At school she had studied hard, encouraged by her parents and told that because of her religious beliefs, life would be harder for her. It wasn’t right, but that was the choice her parents had made when they arrived from the Middle East over thirty years ago.

Her blog was simply called ‘Dhara Writes…’, but it was also the showcase for her photography and poetry. She had toyed with investigative journalism, having studied both photography and journalism at Plymouth University a couple of years back. But the truth of the matter was that all the big meaty stories were already being covered, or she just didn’t have the experience and contacts to be able to break through that shell. She wanted to scratch under the surface of the lies, get on the inside and expose the truth.

Today she was just out looking for inspiration in beautiful woodland.

And to also check out a rumour she had heard about a house owned by a convicted killer, and that now made people disappear.

Armed with her Nikon D4 camera and her small GoPro camera, she had hoped to get some footage of the house. Something that would not just go up on her website, but would go on YouTube and gain her the credit from others. She knew success nowadays was measured so much differently to that of years gone by. With a huge pile of dedication, thought, and a little marketing, anybody had the potential to be a star. It wasn’t the fame she craved as much as the recognition of her craft by her peers, as well as anybody else. The ability to take a hobby and nurture the obsession into something others want to buy into was the epitome of a dream coming true.

Her silver Ford Fiesta was parked next to a classic VW camper van, and she admired the cream and bright orange exterior of the 1960s’ van, with its original split windscreen. This was the vehicle she wanted, if only for the look of it. There was something funky and timeless that screamed out adventure so much more than a fancy pickup or overly expensive 4x4 could. Perhaps the real adventure was the time spent on the side of the road, awaiting breakdown assistance while the vehicle bellowed and coughed out dark smoke. Or the fact that the engine screamed in pain when being pushed above sixty-five miles per hour, so long journeys became even longer when you were unable to get out of the slow lane. The vibrations through

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