The Sunday post. Draw up a chair. Well, no, I know they are too enormous to move. Everything is over-sized here in this room, I have even seen falcons come flying through, but the plush, eight foot tall golden chairs are comfortable just as they are, and the immensity of the stone walls and stone floors are made enchanting by the great roaring fire in the hearth, by the vast rugs that soften everything. Don't look too long though into those carpets. I think they are haunted, their beauty is endless, and you will be lost in them forever. You will start to see that the red is not red, and you will go deeper and deeper and not come back. This will not do because we are toasting fresh bread for you in the fireplace. We have butter. Listen to the sound of the rain falling. Yes, it is perfect here. Perfect.
Unfortunately there is nothing wrong with that.
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