Another Sunday morning is here. The kids are running around the house bored out of their minds. They are throwing their basket balls against the wall, and waiting for me to finish the laundry so we can go to the park. We don?t have much of a lawn to play in. I lean against the washer, exhausted. I begin to daydream as I take the clothes out. I open the dryer door, and climb in. I am getting into a Land Rover at the foot of a steep rocky mountain. It transports my loved ones and I up an inclination on a narrow winding road. The air is full of mist and bewilderment.
The sun is setting over the horizon, and an extensive magnitude of colors adorn the evening.
Burgundy and violet blanket the lowering sun. After a stimulating ride we arrive. The majestic structure is breathtaking. A castle, crafted of sturdy grey rock waits for us. Gargoyles overshadow the colossal front entrance. Carvings decorate the vast amounts of spherical towers and rigid corners. It is definately a magical place. It is very peaceful. There is no clamor of our normal everyday life. I don?t hear anything. Even the trees surrounding the castle are lifeless and inanimate. They stand, unmoving like soldiers protecting us from the world. Inside, the main foyer is wide and extends several feet. Antiquated furnishings and elegant tapestries compliment the sentiment we feel. Brilliant gold and warm greens intermingle with the dark marble flooring. Above is a massive glimmering chandelier, made of fine crystals. I am a child at recess as I explore the maze of hallways abundant with bedrooms, dens, and closets.We are obviously the first occupants in a long stretch of time. I pursue one of the sleeping quarters.
The bedding has not been slept in. There is a collection of dust and cobwebs in various corners.
An eerie feeling creeps over me, and intrigues me at the same moment. There are impressive stone fireplaces in almost every room. I can envision...