Ambers of time flow through the asylums of life. As one embarks on a journey set behind the padded cells of imagination, only those embers of true sanity will prevail in the many adventures to survive the deity of life. Eddie goes on such adventures through the corridors of time within the chamber walls of the secluded mansion to discover what life is really like in the realm of the padded cells of his mind’s eye.
“Come on let’s find a way inside and look around OK?” I grabbed Vera’s hand and started walking along the fence, but David and Sally just stood there starin’ at the hundreds of graves that were haphazardly placed around the entire mansion but more-so at the few on the inside of the spiked fence inside the confines of the cemetery. “Hey wait up Eddie, don’t leave us here, I would rather go inside the house and look there instead of this creepy place.” David leaped toward Vera and me leaving his sister standing on the cobblestone driveway. “No ya don’t, I aint gonna stay here, not me, wait up guys.” Sally jogged toward the rest of us as we slowly walked beside the fence, pushing our way through the weeds and bushes that covered the whole place as far as we could see, we finally found a small gate with a broken padlock and a rusty chain dangling from its one broken hinge’. Bein’ the brave one I pushed the gate to one side and then slid through sideways so as not to tear my clothes, and then the others slithered in right behind me. The gates of Hell seemed to open right in front of our eyes. The sky above the cemetery appeared as lead, with the glow of the faint sun turning our faces to a crystal red shade, cold winds taunted our skin, and seemed to fill us with some sort of ritualistic spirit, dust flew up in our faces from the loosened and driven winds inside the graveyards ragged metal barrier with a misty fog drifting down on us from Heaven in a fire-laid sheet of red dew droplets that seemed to burn our flesh with millions of tiny goose bumps. The smell from moss covered grave stones penetrated our nostrils, turning our stomach with the trifles on which it was driven. I felt heavy hearted as my soul drifted upward in the dusty sheets Secluded Mansion Nights of fog; but all the sudden the fog broke from my skin and was gone with the winds on which it came, and as I glared right at a big stone, I seen that it had an inscription carved in it that read: “Voodoo Princess 1862, manner of death, yellow fever.” Moss covered the stone from top to bottom, but it was still readable. My friends looked all around as they stood in one spot pivoting their bodies in a complete circle and their eyes popped outta their heads the size of silver dollars as we slowly crept further inside the cemetery.
Edward H’ Wolf… Eddie was born in Muncie, Indiana in 1950, and grew up in the countryside where the story took place. His childhood was one of hard work, fun, and filled with many adventures. He is an artist, writes poetry, loves to cook among other things, and keeps life going strong as a domesticated house-hold technician. His weird sense of humor and fictions knowledge has taken many twists and turns along the road to life in the literary an artistic world, and some of them he experienced in the mansion as well as beyond its domains. He has five children… 4 boys and 1 daughter, and all of them have made their way out of the nest placing themselves into lives of their own where they to may someday experience their own “Secluded Mansion Nights” of the mind’s eye. He now resides in the beautiful Pacific North West in Gresham, Oregon, and is still as happy as he has always been and continues to write in order to keep himself sane and and out of his asylum filled mind and in the literary world where fact meets fiction on a daily bases.