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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1208457-The-Mountains-of-Switzerland
Rated: E · Fiction · Entertainment · #1208457
Short, but I like it. It is a dream of mine and this is retold after a personal experience
A Dream


         Everything was still but for a few birds rustling and cooing to each other in the trees. The snow was blindingly white from the glare of the sun, and along with the rocky surface of the Alps, seemed to rise up forever into the clouds. A small stream of smoke twisted and wound its way into the sky like a snake, escaping from one of many chimneys atop a very large mansion. The mountains engulfed that mansion; hiding it so a casual passerby might have missed it completely.

         The house itself was a thing of beauty, though not comparable to its majestic surroundings. An aura of confidence and value emanated from the stone walls. Great pillars rose from the mountain it sat on, and intricately outlined the shape of the castle. Much of the house was not visible, as it was set right into the mountain, but what one could see was a great Victorian-style home, meticulously expanded and improved upon so as to create an utterly wonderful sight to behold.

         Behind the great front doors was no different; a grand chandelier hung from easily a forty foot ceiling. A staircase rose up in the center of the parlor, only to part at the top and spiral off to the upper floors. The mansion’s interior was as well sculpted as the outside, with rich mahogany floorboards partially covered by expensive Persian rugs. The walls seemed to come alive with gold lining set in a random pattern three inches from the top and bottom. One might have honestly believed that they had stepped back in time had they not seen a security camera perched above the giant doors, humming quietly to itself.

         Headlights pierced through the glass windows, and a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up the drive, parking itself just outside the garage. A tall man in a very expensive silk suit stepped out, grabbed a suitcase from within the vehicle, and answered the cell phone that had begun to vibrate inside his jacket.

         “Yes.” said the man in a deep monotone voice, in such a manner that showed he had done this on and off all day, and was extremely tired of it.

         “Ah, you answered your phone, eh? Well when will you be back in the United States? We have business to attend to in Minneapolis,” came a raspy and low voice from the phone. The man rolled his eyes, and asked himself why this client would call him so often. His mind came with an answer quickly enough; he was from Detroit. The phone never left the man’s ear.

         “Monday. I’ll call you from my hotel.” Came the man’s quick reply as he hung up his phone, and began his ascent up the front walkway and into his home…


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1208457-The-Mountains-of-Switzerland