Free Write, 06/29/15

Prompt: People think of me as an uncommon boy because of my castle.

People think of me as an uncommon boy because of my castle, but, really, what difference does that make? All it really means is I’m well acquainted with how to clean a castle, drafty halls, and how to properly tuck-point things. What could be more normal than that?

I suppose not everyone reclines in claw footed armchairs on rainy afternoons when they curl up with a good book, and, yes, I do mean book. We don’t get cell service through our think stone walls and just forget about WiFi. Even if my anachronistic parents would consider installing “the instrument of societal doom” within their domain, we would still have trouble with signal strength. It would take a damn good router to reach all 57 rooms, basement, and surrounding acreage. And, without complete coverage, what’s the point?

It’s not like I get bored. I have old armor to play with, shelves to polish, horses to ride, and poltergeists to exorcise. What little boy could ask for me? Except, maybe, a friend…