Untitled

Click…click….click, tap… tap… tap. That was the sound on the dark cobbled pavement on a dank and rainy backstreet of Norwich, the simultaneous stepping echoing around the abandoned and otherwise silent street.  Through the gloom of the night if you looked really carefully past the infamously brilliant Belgian monk pub, you would see the retreating figures of two young women in heels cuddled together under a large black parasol. The women where not particularly tall, approximately 5ft 4 and 5ft 6 respectively, if you ignored their 6 and 7 inch platform boot heels of course, with their gleaming silver buckles glinting in the meagre lamplight that was provided from old and neglected streetlamps that is.  The taller of the two had brilliant blood red hair that was woven in long intricate braids tied in with feathers and beads of all different colours and species whereas the shorter had shoulder length  deep purple curly locks with streaks of silver here and there. Circlets of precious metals and stones adorned their brows and their clothing was almost otherworldly. The taller wearing hues of midnight blue and strands of gold the shorter deep black and emerald green.  Both where enchanting and mysterious but that was not all they where.
This is their story.