Stairs to the Tower

Last weekend, Ulric and I flew to New York to attend our cousin's wedding. This was the first time I'd been away from both Bede and Lucia, and I wondered if my missing them would overshadow the trip. However, I enjoyed my three days of merriment. I stayed up late and danced until my shoes were "worn down to a laugh." The weekend event took place in an old mansion up on the top of a mountain. I often got lost among the halls of rooms and ended up in interesting nooks. My favorite discovery was the flight of stairs that led to the tower. Many stories have taken place in towers. For some reason, parents in fairy tales think that locking their children up in towers will keep away romantic interlopers.




Bede and I yearn for a tower of our own. A simple turret will do. We have argued over who gets to have his or her office in the turret. Then, we have decided that the turret will have two rooms, and we argue about who gets the top room in the turret. In the end, the fact remains that we have no turret and likely never will. Perhaps that is why the Queen Anne dollhouse is so alluring.

P.S.
Despite my lack of sleep, I have returned with energy and ideas for more stories. Future compositions will each be three paragraphs long. Try me.

P.P.S.I have edited this post since its original publication. I reread it later and was aghast at all of the editing errors. Jetlag! I blame jetlag.