The House of Hyperion

The House of Hyperion
Originally uploaded by Archer Braun.

Like a dog, he hunts in dreams, and thou art staring at the wall
Where the dying night-lamp flickers, and the shadows rise and fall.
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The flickering candle of a dying sun offers strange comfort in this ancient place. Stone, stained with the promise of a lush embrace, arches everywhere. The heavy, still air whispers autumn promises, but delivers a memory of newly-slumbering summer.
Close the eyes and smell it.
The sharp tang of hollow laughter, the cinnamon of whispered secrets.
The first Watching Place.
The faint tingle of trickling, electric silk brushing across a back.
Spin, search, smell the air.
There.
There it is.
A caern...buried.
But alive.