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Approaching the tower from the south, stone steps led up behind the boundary wall to a narrow gate.
It creaked on its hinges when he opened it.
Nothing stirred. No birds in the trees, no whisper of wind through the leaves, no scurrying of tiny feet through the undergrowth.
All was eerily silent, as if Waiting.
The tower was surprisingly warm when he entered, the wooden door heavy and rusted, yet it moved with ease.
Climbing the inner steps, the hair on the back of his neck started to tingle and rise.
He knew not what to expect, his mind in overdrive at the thought of a sleeping damsel from a thousand years ago waiting for his kiss to bring her forth to this life.
Continue reading: Tower – #writephoto | pensitivity101