altar

Stepping away from the labyrinthine parlour, your journey leads you into the forsaken recesses of the mansion's bathhouse. This once regal sanctuary, now tarnished by time's ruthless hand, breathes an air of faded grandeur. Dominating the heart of the room is an immense heart-shaped tub, once vibrant red, now a pale echo of its former radiance Its scarlet hue tells tales of romance and decadence, lost in the hush of the ages.

The marble floors, once the epitome of elegance, now lay marred and split, a tapestry of fissures mapping the echoes of a thousand forgotten footfalls. Noble pillars, the architectural vertebrae of this grand retreat, stand etched with time's inexorable toll, their majesty reduced to crumbling skeletal echoes. Statues of David-like men and Venus-like women, once paragons of beauty and virility, endure the merciless weathering of the ages. Their once flawlessly chiselled features now blemished, their eyes, however, still retain an iota of their divine spark amidst the desolation.

Precious artworks that once adorned the bathhouse walls now lie victim to mold's cruel encroachment, their vibrant stories consumed by the insatiable fungus. Even the most skilled archivists would stand defeated before this rampant decay, their once splendid radiance rendered unsalvageable. A sense of aridity fills the air, a poignant contrast against the pervasive signs of water-induced decay, painting a stark testament to the mercilessness of neglect.

Among the quiet decay, a dusty notebook waits to be discovered, its cover bearing the scrawled word, "Musings". This modest companion, much like the mansion itself, appears to harbour a treasury of untold stories, a testament to a mind now lost to the ages, silently inviting you to embark on an intimate odyssey of discovery.

Musings

These writings are not serious - for fun. Spraying thoughts into the winds like a seabreeze.