Everyone has scars, built up burden, damaged goods,

He has worthless thoughts on the hot summer evening,

Cobblestone streets, dense fog, street lamps standing guard like soldiers

protecting the castle on the hill-

One flickers- “Don’t slow down.”

The castle stands 87 feet tall with 300 stairs leading to its peak, statues, weeds, a fountain.

Rain drops, bricks crumble, glass shatters, night falls- “be tough.”

This one room illuminates the façade, mirrors are shattered, floors creak, carpets are torn up grasping at ankles that shuffle down the mile long hall, torches threaten to set ablaze the family-

Portraits that hang, arguing echoes through the corridor, shattering glass, broken tables. Out the window an American flag waves to its visitors-

Only there is no one left.

The street lamps are running, the fog is crawling, the streets open up.

Nervous traffic cones appear in the aftermath, angry garden gnomes, excited knives, burning the grass black- lifting the ants from their slumber,

“Just keep moving”, “don’t slow down”, “almost there”,

There is a door, a door at the end of the hallway with light seeping through, red claw marks, the bronze handle turns,

His eyes open adjusting to the white light engulfing him in peace.