The White Castle

I was arriving back home with a dream wife, one of those vague suggestions of a person, but who doesn't really have a form or name or anything. I do seem to recall that she was blonde though. We were coming home to a city house, a tall, two or three story town house type affair, but old, perhaps 1910 or even earlier. The house was getting run down, but in that plesant sort of archaic delapidation sort of way, bricks trying to come detached, wood slowly slumping. It needed work, but I loved it just the same. The thing that surprised me was that I was across the street from the house, and while the street up to there was very urban, with similar sorts of town houses, my neighbour beside was gone. In fact the entire rest of the street was gone. And behind my house was a vast green field, verdant with rolling hills, watery sunshine and flowers. I think they were sunflowers, or large flowers with white petals and big black or yellow irises. It was all very pretty and in stark contrast to the gloomy street the house was on. I had the distinct impression that the fields and open space were slowly "taking over" the dark urban street.

There was also, just a few hills into the fields, a tall, square, white tower. It was like a "princess" tower or a small keep of some sort, with crenelated top and visible tall windows along the sides. The color of it was a stark, bright, snowy white. It was beautiful and made me happy just to see.

We went insde then, and I found myself in the basement. It was messy there, with boxes stacked up, but it was a warm place, all oranges and red-browns with exposed wood, and again I was very happy and comfortable there. My dream wife and I were going to start cleaning up and neatening the whole house. It was the start of getting the place back into order, since we'd be there for some time to come. It was to be work, but work that would be a pleasure to do.