Trojský Zámek

I had to get out of the city, too much narrative there.

Every large estate was called a castle. Like, come to my castle for the weekend and unwind.

True, what I needed was time. I was working to forget a person, or rather a habit of thought, those contours my want still took on autopilot.

Some had been converted into public parks. Children streaked through the hedge maze, happy and dappled.

A woman with a panicked dog charged ten cents for the bathroom. Its stalls were clean and breezy. White sun slashed the cold stone floor.

I felt brushes with some minor history, but mostly old silence.

From the castle patio I saw the distant city, which didn’t seem to miss me or exist. Finally, it was just my future.

I saw the maze’s grammar, too, the lovely stagnant fountain at its center, centuries of waiting to be reached.

A convoluted path among those slowly growing walls. In and out of shadow.

Every mistake I would make.