Inside the Garden
You cautiously descend the ornate stairway. A rich red carpet lines the stairs and the brass handrail gleams dully in the candle-light. You go down and down, not knowing how far below the ground you are, when suddenly you round the corner and are confronted with a big oaken door. It is standing ajar and warm, golden light spills into the corridor.
Warily, you push open the door and it swings inward on silent hinges. A large, decadent room lies beyond. There are furs and cushions strewn about between sophisticated chaise longue and elegant tables. A woman reclines on a chaise in the centre of the room.
Her back is to you but you can see the harsh white of her skin, almost hidden by her fall of shining hair. She wears a dark ball gown which flows our along the couch in ruffles and waves.
Warily, you push open the door and it swings inward on silent hinges. A large, decadent room lies beyond. There are furs and cushions strewn about between sophisticated chaise longue and elegant tables. A woman reclines on a chaise in the centre of the room.
Her back is to you but you can see the harsh white of her skin, almost hidden by her fall of shining hair. She wears a dark ball gown which flows our along the couch in ruffles and waves.