Like the trumpets, in this haunted castle nestled deep in the sleepy pasture I have countless doors to open during the day and countless doors to close at night. The dark floors downstairs harbor unclean spirits who are trapped in the amber marrow of the wood and stone forever.
There's an old well outside and if you listen closely you can hear the faded wailing of drowned children, cats and dogs, the countryside blankets a city of yearning, a city of pretty illusions, a city of echos, imagine a devil imprisoned in the marble, carving him out and setting him free upon the Earth.
