KING OF THE HILL
It hasn't been used in years, so the smell has all but died off now. One of the many benefits of progress - and the indoor plumbing at the nearby cottage.
Even though it is a mostly forgotten relic from an older time, I still like to come out here sometimes.
I will usually bring a magazine with me, something to pass the time.
As I make my way up the sagging dirt steps, a cobweb clings gently at my face. I wipe at it, then reach out for the screen door. It pulls outward with a heating screech of rusted hinges and slams shut behind me with a clatter.
I peer out through the leaves, then down the dark hole carved into the wooden bench and topped with a toilet seat. I wouldn't want to be surprised by any critters waiting down below.
Finally content, I lower my pants and sit on the throne, a satisfied king surveying the crowded forest of my kingdom.
There is a definite serenity to this forgotten place, a sense of peace that permeates the structure, and the experience linked to it.
I hum a little song and pick up my magazine.
This king needed a moment alone and now he has it, perched atop his throne in his sheltered tower on the hill.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone. Please excuse auto corrected errors!
