An estate which might as well be a city. I saw it thrice from the outside. I was on three different plazas built by thought. Forever immaculate. Forever unchanging until the best architect in existence decides to change it.
Glossy yellowish stone. Walls carved with the most intricate reliefs. I remember a gryphon sculpture. Views to die for. Unimaginable intricacies. Nothing ever out of place. A three dimensional painting. Or should I say a four or five dimensional painting? Tiers and tiers, and a labyrinth of paths and steps and places so high you can look into one of the courtyards of giant firs and 'imported' redwoods.
Lit by fire. Rooms are kind of on the dim side, but it doesn't matter. There's enough light to get around. I remember a desk. A library. Archways. Halls that go on forever.
I can't wait to go back, but the decision is not mine when.
What is and what has been written are not the same.
When can we retire from what is?
