Frigid northern night winds coldly kissed the summer gardens goodbye. Inch by inch, joy by joy, they howled an eternal song, while happily and viciously introducing time. He went inside the classically columned, one story stone building, hoping to find some warmth and illumination, willing to settle for either.
He briskly walked down the dark, unpopulated, stark hallway glimpsing the doors closed to him and had no interest in them. At the end he encountered one of the oak variety stained a dark brown, with a black, rectangular sign, containing golden brass letters which said “S-U-P-R-E-SPACE-E-SPACE-C-O-U-R-T”. The tarnished “M” lay on the plushy light brown carpet, which covered a floor of indeterminate substance. The “M” was now companion to other debauched debris, rubbish, trash and junk. The inch deep undisturbed dust suggested long term abandonment. He picked up and pocketed a 1793 large cent, half buried in the grime, which displayed a woman’s head with long flowing hair on the obverse and a wreath on the reverse, thinking it appropriate. He then tried the loose knob on the door and was surprised how easily it swung open. The room was lit with buzzing overhead tubular lights. The walls, ceilings and floors were painted an irregular, but strangely equalized cream shade of white.
There were only two distractions from the two paintings hung on the wall straight ahead. One was a lavender blue marble fountain, which sprayed water two feet in the air, in which the light from the one and only small window near the ceiling gave the moisture laden bouquet a rainbow effect on occasion. The other was a stable black masonry composite bench, on which he sat and beheld the shadows of life.
His posterior pushed against the unyielding obsidian bench in accordance with all the laws of physics, as his eyes wandered curiously around the starkly barren room. They alit one more time on the small window: what little light it passed danced around a sturdy set of bars. He leaned forward for a better vantage and discerned the material of manufacture. Over-wrought iron. That explained it.
Opening: SumCan.....Continuation: Anonymous