Reminiscing on my current living space. Not just a hive. My home. The Aurora Manor. Gifted two me graciously by a man whose punishment is two hold the world II once knew up as Atlas in myth. A man whose sacrifice laid the very foundation for this place and its magic. This manor. Outside, the spires are sharp, striking the sky like swords. Inside? It's vast. Void. Endless. Decorated, polished, elegant, and dark. But empty. A labyrinth that goes on for eternity with only my own imagination separating reality from fiction. The windows stretch along walls as long as II want them two be. Corridors appear when II turn a corner, with doors that weren't there moments before. Rooms that never existed, with items that had never been carefully crated outside of a wish, make and unmake themselves at my whim. And you would think it lonely. Hollow. Meaningless. Some days, it is. And some days, II love it. The space of a ballroom with a mirror along the walls. The great stained-glass windows where space couldn't possibly be, where light couldn't possibly reach. Space two dance. Two sing. Two belt and let my voice reach the farthest corners of this Escherian estate, two hear it echo back two me and me alone. Maybe it is vast and void and endless. But it answers two me, and only me. And sometimes II need that. ✨