Tristan Hazell lives and works in the shadow of the Westway on Portobello Road. What follows is a collection of observations, reviews, social comment, fiction, poetry, art criticism and more. Much of it is fiction and some of it will offend someone somewhere, I hope.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Salt Ghost.



Going through Jan Nieupjur's papers the other day I came across this old photograph. There was nothing to tell me who or where.

I showed Jan the image and asked about it... He sighed and whispered the words: 'The salt ghost'. He went on to tell me that he only knew the woman standing on the left by the initial 'M' but that she was known throughout eastern Europe during the last war as the snow ghost.

He went on to tell me that 'M' spent the entire war with a band of renegades hindering the enemy (quite who the enemy was is a mystery) by scattering salt on ice-bound canals that were being used as roads in the winters and over salting their food in daring night time raids on military canteens. She disappeared shortly after hostilities ceased.

I asked where she was now.

'Don't know'. said Jan. 'She could be in south America or fifty yards down the road'.

'But I bet she's still got a lot of salt!




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