Pictures dated 020325 – draft #1
Sitting proud on its perch, the Castle sit proud on it’s rocky perch above the town. It’s ancient walls are scarred, at least those of which that remain.
Imperious and impervious. I can imagine being a lowly peasant working the lands, never leaving a circle one kilometer in radius from my home. One day I trek to the nearby town and am awestruck by the might. Gods wrought these stones.
A red and white cross, in use quite like a reclaimed word, but I feel that it has flown before those things mattered, and will fly after.
A pervert gazing upon a pair of vuluptuous crows.
Imagine this, if you will, a hotel from which you can watch the game. A dastardly idea.
Be here with me.