April 02, 2009

Stepping Through the Wardrobe

The room didn't look like much. Just a bare floor, bare walls, rain on the window outside--the only furniture in it was a giant wardrobe with the most curious carvings of trees and animals, the like of which I've never seen in this world. And then, like magic, the wardrobe doors opened. And when we stepped inside, it was like another world. The fur coats hanging in rows on either side gave way to pine boughs, and snow was falling gently in the forest. A lamp-post burned brightly nearby, though there were no houses or electric wires that I could see. But we were eager to explore, so we continued on our way.

It looked like winter, at first-- there was a frozen waterfall that we'd thought to climb, but it made our hands too cold. And we passed by a faun's house, a witch's icy throne, and other such things. But winter quickly gave way to warmer seasons, and the land changed. Instead of ice and snow, there were ruins and castles and odd talking creatures living in hiding among the trees. We saw arches being built, catapults being launched, the crowns of kings and queens, and the promise of a fantastic upcoming voyage to sea. But then we passed an arch where a lion spoke to us and said it was time to go back to our own world. So we stepped through the doorway...and ended up back in Philadelphia.

Drat.

(Description courtesy of a much better writer than I. But it still applies.)