My o' my, what big walls you have old house. What great halls you have, and what mighty marble floors. I could wander the labyrinth of your insides for one hundred years and still not touch every corridor.
One day, as I was taking my usual trip through the south hall, I came upon a door. The great glass door stood in the center of a great oak hallway, and yet I had never noticed it. Ceiling high it stood, reaching up to the angel's archway. All of the windows around it seemed to be smugged and smattered with the dust of centuries, but it's four panes lay pristine among a forest frame. It was an oddity of the house's grandeur. Beyond the door was a staircase.
I pondered for a moment, pandered to the handle, and pushed the mighty crystal open. The hinges permitted the door to only open inch by inch, ans if magnetized. It reminded me of the stories my brother would tell me when my parents fell asleep. They always started with a gray old lady, and ended with my tears.
Anyway, when I stepped inside the great spiral, I saw another world. The staircase was a dark blue, with tile on the floor. Bloody squares were cut between dirty yellow diamonds. The electrical ran up the wall in disconnected cords, and lit up the room as an old movie projector lit up the screen. Above me was no ceiling, only more stair. My curiosity persuaded me to place my foot upon the first step and look up. All I could see was light, and all I could hear was the swaying of the mighty wind. Below me was the discords of the organist, missing yet another leading tone. I climbed further up the mighty beast, and kicked up the salt of footprints past.
Step. Echo. Step. Roar. Step. Power. Step. Thunder.
About every five meters there was another window. I could see my body rising progressively higher. The clouds now seemed at eye level. The blue paint was now chipping, right in line with where I was running my hand, as if someone had been there before. I breathed in the pieces and coughed.
By now, I was nearing my ever present light which had become my only friend on the journey behind me. The last three steps led me to a round landing where all of the paint had been chipped away, and left the smooth lines of sharp concrete. The salt I had set afloat had gathered around the two foot bulb that lit the tower.
Darkly towering, a dragonesque door was in behind of me. Unlike the previous organism, this was less like a door and more like a gateway, pressing into the oblivion that only the eagles knew. It rose short and wooden, but had a rounded head like it's brother. Rusted was it's knob, and it would not turn. I ran against it trying to splinter the majestic lumber.
Defeated, I carved a name into the wall, so that if she rise to the same hallowing challenge, that when she faced defeat, it might welcome her.
