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



Photo by Wikimedia user Juliancolton

Last night’s dream was fairly standard…well, half of it. I spent this half roaming a seemingly endless, overgrown field with grass up to my neck, where even the ground seemed to be unstable and the wind was barely audible. The first I remember of this field, I was with my mother. We came across the ruins of a building, if they could be called ruins. They looked more like a series of vaguely rectangular arrangements of bricks a foot high with debris cluttering the rooms they once enclosed. She told me they were the ruins of a building she once visited a few times when she was younger…I remember wondering how a building could go from something people visited to something that looked more like the beginnings of an archeological dig site in barely a few decades. She also half-jokingly asked me if I knew any buildings that had been reduced to rubble like this. I wondered anyway and my mind returned nothing. Continue reading