First few images from my personal project 'Cthulhu Diary'. More to come.
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The strange village of Craghmouth.
The Flood of 1896
Many of the lower laying houses are used to being submerged, through repeat flooding, and appear to be commonly inhabited by those townsfolk who are even more prone to the strange than their slightly less piscine kinsmen. It is apparent that they prefer it that way. But who would take to a damp home gladly? One can dimly imagine the foul fish and brine fetoring out of the very walls! Lord knows even the farthest ends of the town can’t fully escape it.
Many of the lower laying houses are used to being submerged, through repeat flooding, and appear to be commonly inhabited by those townsfolk who are even more prone to the strange than their slightly less piscine kinsmen. It is apparent that they prefer it that way. But who would take to a damp home gladly? One can dimly imagine the foul fish and brine fetoring out of the very walls! Lord knows even the farthest ends of the town can’t fully escape it.
Leaving Southampton for Plymouth and then on to Craghmouth
As the sun sets, it provides a departing warmth, as though taking mirth and levity with it far below the horizon, and allowing their counterparts to settle almost imperceptibly in their stead. Then, as punctual as the arrival of the ship, the sun's mortal enemy, the clouds, gather to conspire against the last rays and brings its brothers and sisters; the wounded winds, the cold canopied firmament and somber whispers, who's origins lie not outside us. The Skies have taken their antagonistic position, to which the seas are often subordinate but let us pray otherwise and that the journey might accommodate the simple needs for calm on a man's travels into the unknown.
