This Mansion of mine does strange things to one’s mind. I suppose having a strange mind to begin with helps, but it isn’t all about me, me, me, me, me. No. The Mansion is partly to blame as well.
Oh, before I go on, that lastish sentence has reminded me of something about this blog. You may already have noticed, but if not, I’ll let you in on a little secret; but as it’s a secret, don’t tell anyone. See if they notice for themselves!
I’ve decided to change the name of the blog. There are still going to be posts about me, obviously, as it’s my blog, but it isn’t all about me. The new name reflects this fact, I hope. The Sphere, by the way, is the Universe and everything in it. And around it… or outside of it. Everything really. Fact, fiction, real, surreal. So, apart from the name change everything’s still the same.
Anyway, back to my original post. And the Mansion.
I’ve been exploring the Cellar. Actually, the catacombs below the Cellar. There’s always a strange rumbling noise down there, I may have mentioned it before, although possibly not. The rumbling was louder whenever I walked past an old oak door.
Quite exactly what an old oak door is doing in the middle of a series of caves leaves me baffled at the moment, and why I’d never bothered opening it before opens another series of as yet unanswered questions. Never mind… maybe they’ll be answered one day.
Today, I opened the door.
The heat hit me first.
Then the smell. A putrid, sulphuric burning metal smell, that literally singed the hairs within my nose (although that may just be wishful thinking on my behalf – I’ve been wanting to rid myself of those nasal hairs for years!)
Then, the rumbling sound brought me back to where I was.
Inside a large cavern, surrounded by blackened rocks.
I suddenly realised that I could see, even though it was quite dark a reddish glow illuminated the cave quite well.
I walked around the cave a little, when the rumbling noise was joined by a hissing sound. And, ahead, I could see steam. Steam escaping through a small hole in the rocks I was walking on.
I knelt down and peered into the hole, and saw what was causing everything that was causing my senses to dance.
Beneath me, not too far down, was a river. A river of molten lava. A bubbling, meandering, hissing, fast-moving stream of hotness that every now and then fired bursts of bright yellow flames in any direction. It seemed to be alive. And as it flowed, I got the sensation that I was moving along with it, although in the opposite direction.
I stayed, travelling like this for quite a few minutes, took a few photos with my mobile phone and then decided to head back to the randomness of the Mansion. I securely closed the old oak door that looked totally out of place, which was actually hiding a cave within a cave. I walked back through the catacombs, up the old and very uneven stone stairs, and into the Cellar. I locked the door, and put the key away in its safe place, the Jar on the Shelf.
Sometimes, doors are closed for a reason. Sometimes, whatever is lurking behind the door isn’t exactly what you’d expect to be there. I should really know that with this Mansion of mine.
Still trying to get back into the full blogging swing; this post is written in response to Sideview’s latest Weekend Theme, which is, incidentally, Should that be there…?
The Mansionic Perspective 
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