Old broken ruins, pick your way through fallen bricks. Grey concrete with dark green moss, each block reminding you of something that's broken, something you can't fix. Worn down steps and the rope railing faded away. Tapestries torn and flung down on the floor. Great big halls lay empty and dusty, the long tables void. Silence coats the ruins, heavy and muffling. The throne room empty too, dark and tingling. The winter king won't return, he's locked away in a room. A room laiden in chains and shackles and old memories. You're scared to open that room, afraid that if you open it you won't be able to close it ever again. The gold throne no longer glows, everyone turning up their nose. Turn your cheek to it and walk down the hall, avoiding crumbling walls and cobwebs. Old chairs with broken legs dotted along the path, all made for sitting yet not used for you would break it even more. Window panes shattered and the glass foggy, the sunlight not making it through the over hang of trees that block out the sky. The winter king won't return, you've banished him for as long as you live.
You come across a mosaic, worn from time and faded from many steps, it shows a girl in a long black dress, looking in a mirror. Sadness shatters through her face, her hand almost reaching for her reflection. You stare it for awhile, thinking, just thinking. When you move on your feet drag on the floor, your arms heavy by your side.
More crumbling walls that seem to press in on you, the broken chairs making you sad for unknown reasons, the torn tapestries dragging your gaze. These ruins are a castle. Once beautiful and lively. Now old and grey and tumbling down.
YOU ARE READING
Portals To Another World
Short StoryHey so these are random short stories,,, pick a title that plucks at your curiosity when you're bored yknow - striving to recreate the feeling of flying -
