photo by Fleur Treurniet via Unsplash
The alleyway smelled of oil and clogged drains, it rattled with chip trays and balls of greasy paper that the wheelie bins trapped and kept. The place wasn’t marked on a map and it didn’t have a signpost, though years back someone whispered Zed Alley and that name passed from one person to another, becoming more solid as the years rolled by until it belonged.
When folk think of magic it doesn’t come alone, it comes with half-melted candles and old, heavy books written in secret languages and cloaks with stars and moons stitched in gold thread … not with half-eaten burgers and broken tarmac.
But then what people think isn’t always clever or sensible or right and Zed Alley held more magic than a warehouse full of candles, more than a thousand crumbling spell books. Because there you would find Miss Hollow’s stable for unicorns …
Here is the real Zed Alley in the centre of Bristol – much nicer than my make believe version. And for more strange Bristolian road names, see here.