Header image by Evelyn Simak under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic.

He looked down over the edge into the fortress’ abyss, and saw a tangle of granite stairs, bridges and arches blanketed in ivy, crumbled in places and collapsed in others. He looked up and saw the same thing plus a faintly visible ceiling with holes in it, nothing but a white sky on the other side. He couldn’t help but fixate on a lone balcony on the inside, halfway between his location and the top of the fortress stairways. He could barely see the room through the arch, but he could see a canvas covering something propped up against a dusty-looking bookcase. He stared and stared until his expedition partner passed him on the bridge, strolling towards the arch leading outside.

“Come on”, she said, “We’ll check out that room when we climb the stairs. Quit staring.” Continue reading


The Old Bridge Incident

Header image by Cruccone under Creative Commons 3.0.

Last night, or perhaps this morning (I can’t really tell), I dreamt I lived in one huge structure with everybody I could think of in my life. It wasn’t a monotone industrial structure, nor an architect’s dream made reality; it was a fortress. A grand fortress, with arches, bridges above the quads below, separate blocks, an effective city.

The place where I worked was on the other side of the fortress, so from my flat I had to cross a major bridge across the southern quads. It felt more like I was crossing plains. It was a busy bridge; it felt like it was the busiest place in the fortress during rush hour. I’d then have to enter a spiral staircase going through a gatehouse at the end of the bridge. There were paths going left and right, but as far as I know those led to more flats. Continue reading