Castle Wanderings
From Writers Write Facebook page
I look out of the Tower window. A new day dawns. It’s early, the birds have only just woken up and the sun is only just peaking over the horizon. It’s quiet. Peaceful. All I ever wanted for my afterlife.
Alas, that is not what I get.
I take advantage of this time before… Before all hell breaks loose.
That’s what it feels like, every single day.
I don’t understand it.
In my day, a castle was private unless otherwise arranged. Unless the monarch requested someone’s presence, they wouldn’t step foot anywhere near the perimeter.
Now they come in their droves. And queue. And talk. And point.
I drift down to the castle wall and peer over the rampart at the commoners standing far too close.
I drift along the halls and view them as they view their surroundings.
They poke and prod at all the belongings of royalty. They gawk at the priceless artefacts. All which have a value that exceed their wildest dreams. Them in their cheap clothing, and absurd headwear. Holding flat boxes, and oddly shaped boxes around their necks.
I wish I could poke them back. If I could, I would grab a musket off the wall and force them out. I’d brandish the swords and bar entrance. I’d throw the knives near the appendages and scare them off.
It’s unrelenting. They don’t stop coming. Even if the rain is hammering down, or ice covers the paths.
To think that this is what my ancient and noble house has been reduced to: a circus attraction for the common masses.
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