Larkhill

Larkhill is a town the Army built and then forgot to give a middle to, which is what happens when your street plan comes from a garrison quartermaster rather than anyone who has ever bought a pint. The barrows outside the window have been there four thousand years and the neighbours have been there four months, and both facts tell you something about how attached anyone gets. It is quiet in the way places are quiet when half the adults are away being professionally loud somewhere else. Come for the posting, stay for the sky, leave when the paperwork says so.