Dear Uncle George,
Sorry I haven’t written in a while…my (second) life has been rather unusual lately. I’ve been looking for a nice peaceful vacation spot and happened to stumble upon a pamphlet for this place delicately named ‘Sopor aEternum.’ Eternum means eternity, right? Sounded peaceful, so I packed my bags.
Imagine my surprise when I arrived.
The sky was low and foreboding, the air cold and thick, and the scenery was quite eerie. As I wandered around, my sense of dread steadily increased, I can tell you. It appeared as though there had been a carnival here at some point, but someone or something had driven everyone away. Was it yesterday, or a hundred years ago? It’s hard to tell.
If I listened carefully, I could swear I heard the warped tune from the rusted carousel and the faint laughter of children floating on the chill air. I discovered a tent and hoped to find someone to speak to but all I found was an abandoned trapeze and a clown whose smile would make most people sleep with a light on forever after.
The longer I stayed the more uneasy I felt. After a while of fruitless searching I could hear the sound of the surf, so I made my way up to the rickety old windmill and peered out through the fog. What I saw did nothing to relieve me of my fears, and the cries of the creatures inhabiting that castle in the distance told me in no uncertain terms just what sort of assistance I would find down there. So I packed my bag back up and left as fast as I could. It’s strange though…I still hear the voices of children, even long after leaving. I can’t help but wonder if something didn’t follow me home…
I’ll let you know where I go for my next vacation- if I’m ever up for one again!