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THE CAVE

Watch your head on that entrance, it's a bit low and dark in here. See the wrought iron staircase? Yes, I just love spiral staircases. But listen to those loose pebbles falling. And falling. And falling. It's a long way down, but then, the most private of places must be far and far from the hustle and bustle of everyday worlds, don't you think?

What's that? Oh, the walls. Yes, I'm rather proud of that. I have circular bookcases inset to the entire length of this staircase. The torches set them off pretty nicely, don't you think? You will find some of my very best friends among those tomes. McCammon, King, Fred Saberhagen, Andrew Greeley, Mary Higgins Clark, Poe, Tolkien, Lumley. Strange bed fellows maybe, but I've always been a bit eclectic.

Let's stop here and rest a minute, shall we? I had this landing put in special for just this purpose. Why don't you take this wonderfully over-stuffed chair? There's some iced tea here, or six pack of something a bit stronger if you are in the mood. Oh, the dagger? Well, let's just say that not all of my guests are as pleasant as they might be. And after all, a girl's private space can't be invaded by just anyone, now can it? But I don't think you need worry about that. You seem to be a fair and likely guest - so far.

But come, let us be friends and speak frankly, as friends do. None of that pussy footing around here. Perhaps we may even find ourselves embarking on a wonderful journey, just as that famous hobbit did. Not plotted and planned but just flowing along as the best of stories do.

Here we go again. Back down the rabbit hole. Just consider me your personal Cheshire cat. I may not know the fastest way to get there, and I may seem a bit off, but I will always have a smile for you.

It's getting a bit warm here in the warren, isn't it? Well, that's the heat coming from my fireplace. It's large enough to roast a deer in (or annoying spammers). There are no curtains at my several bay windows, because that might distract one's eyes from the view. Yes, it is a spectacular view, isn't it? I believe that's the sunset off the coast of California. No, I'm not sure. You see the views are all different, and they are always changing. Sometimes I even see into peoples homes (they are always strangers to me) and on one memorable occasion I spotted this huge frog, that sucker had to be 6 ft tall, with big ol' fangs dripping a thick, clear fluid that had to be poison. Sometimes it's nice to remember that there is a thick pane of glass between me and the view.

Oh, I see I've disturbed you. Can't have that. Come, take a seat beside the fire. I'll just opaque these windows and light a few candles, there. Much more cozy, don't you agree?

The room is as diverse as my collection of books. A 7 ft sofa covered in soft chintz, deep rose carpeting and several small tables scattered about to hold my collectibles (a silver chalice from the age of Aurther, a few dragons carved of wood and stone, an intricately scribed cross). What would you like to listen to? I've got Pink Floyd, Glen Miller, Metallica, AC/DC, Heart, you name it. Or should we forgo the music and get to our real business?

Did you think I'd forgotten? The Girl. Yes, I do remember meeting her. Not easy to forget, that one. Actually, you kind of remind me of her. Not your looks so much as the eyes. Sometimes I dream of those eyes. They had a quality... haunted? Yes, I guess you could say so. See, I met her long, long ago. But not very far away... But now the hour grows late, and I can see your eyes, so much like that girls in their expressiveness, are growing dim. Let us rest a bit and pick up the thread of this tale with the dawning of the morrow. I am so glad you have come. I've not told this tale to anyone before and it is a relief to my soul to share it with you, my friend. Good night, sweet dreams.

Please visit the newly updated, ad free Carrie's Conceptions at http://dreampilot.net

Carrie Norfleet hillarynorfleet@chartermi.net
last revised on October 18, 1999