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Revival
by
Ofavon
(The prompt was a painting of Cadbury Castle in Glastonbury.)
There is an early time of day when the first suggestion of light appears. The
sky is no longer an empty void of black night sprinkled with the dust of
stars. It is at this time of day when trees and mountains still sleep in the
blackness as though unaware of the approaching morning, and on this side of the
lake they appear as a setting that will frame the first light of day.
If a man is still not too old to remember, he may see things he saw as a
child. For a few moments at least there may be glimpses of his boyhood days when
gallantry and courage were plentiful, when it was still not too late too defend
what he held most dear.
I saw a castle this morning. I did, I really did. I thought I never would
again -- the light was bad and these old eyes could barely make out the spires
and turrets, but it was there.
It gradually faded as the sky lightened, but for a moment or two it was as
clear as it was in the days of Camelot. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it
was when I was young; it was more real than the house I lived in. More real even
than my mother and my father.
The people there were tall and straight. The ladies were lovely and helpless
and if it weren’t for the bravery of the men of Camelot they would be prey for
the dragons, wicked magicians and witches that prowled the hostile woods
outside. I knew every stone in those castle walls, every secret passage, every
crypt. I could find my way blindfolded through the twists and turns from the
dungeons to the towers. My own house was stranger to me than the castle of
Camelot.
But I grew up, and as I did I lost sight of Camelot. It faded and the world I
lived in took its place. A world of cities and roads, smoke and noise. In the
place of castles there were factories and slums. There were six-lane highways
to take the place of country lanes and forest paths. Camelot was forgotten.
Until this morning, just before the break of day I saw Camelot again. For
just a moment, there in the first russet light of the sky ... and then it was
gone.
It may not ever come again.
The End
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