The Long Walk
A Memory of Littleborough.
As a young girl in the mid fifties I have fond memories of walking around Hollingworth Lake. Having stories of ghosts living under the lake, the walk seemed never ending, frightnening at times if I lost track of my parents, but beautiful! A child's imagination of a hand rising up from the deeps in the middle of the lake, made unbearable by an older brother, disappeared as I walked amongst spring flowers to the sounds of starlings and magpies.
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