MR MANSION

There is no mystery in warm weather. I yearn for the mysterious magic of the fall first and foremost and then the winter. There is a story of comfort and chills in a barren tree, in dead leaves, in a hoodie, and in the sound of a crow. The smell of fire and smoke and incense is a new world. Cooler air is atmosphere. My name is the butler in an old dark house and the many secret passageways.