Hello to all pigeons rooting around in parks, sandcastles being stepped on by careless people, and green computer speakers.
The house I’m currently sitting in as I write this is hardly what you’d call amazing. As far as I know tourists don’t stop by just to gape and take pictures and I really doubt anyone’s ever paused to admire our brick duplex sitting on the corner of this street and that one, with its rocks and bush and tree and eight tulips poking out of the ground. And– as much as I’d like to believe it– I don’t think people gather outside just to try and catch a glimpse of Onceabasementdog, that girl who usually huddles in her basement writing stories that are heavily inspired by other stories. Sure, she has some original ideas, but… never mind. I hope I never run into copyright troubles with David Eddings, that’s all.
I need a better place to be. So, I had this thought: why don’t I build a castle?
Here’s the idea. Free labor, first of all: I’m thinking dispensable orcs or dwarves or something. I’ll ask them to find some big stones and pile them together and maybe glue them in or something, and then I’ll find the best architects and ask them to get to work on my crazy idea for a gigantic structure with soaring red roofs and turrets and statues of albatrosses that continually circle the spires. If that’s weird, just wait until you look over the plans for the inside: a labyrinth of colorful corridors all spiraling inward toward the Grand Central Chamber, which is secured right in the middle of the castle and made entirely of stained glass. There’s a throne in there, and fountains, and bookshelves like you’ve never seen. The castle’s built in the most remote regions of Iceland, and in the Concert Chamber, Arcade Fire, Of Monsters and Men, or Florence and the Machine are continuously playing their best songs. Also there’s a score of antechambers that are devoted to paintings, books, musical instruments, and maybe just maybe one that’s full of strawberry rhubarb pie and chocolate mint chip ice cream. If you’re not one of the dozen or so guards hired to protect the wonders of the Castle, you’ll inevitably get lost in there– unless you stumble on the map room, where you’ll find an assortment of maps depicting imaginary lands and the intricate hallways of the great Castle Onceabasementdog.
The flag is blue with a great gold ‘O’ on it. It’s surrounded by deep, dark forests, home to terrible beasts and maybe a wall of thorns for effect, or something.
There you have it. If you’re ever in Iceland, look around for the construction of an enormous structure being built by dwarves.