In life there are times when a rock is just a fucking rock and not the tip of a gigantic titan long ago transformed into a mountain that's just waiting for some dumb hero to come along and wake it up. Yet when I tell you that I stood in the Hermitage, listening to the house breathe, and waiting for Jackson to come barreling down the hall to kick out all these god damned interlopers I don't want you to think me given to flights of fancy. All the same I stood there on the steps leading up into the second floor where his darling bride made their bed rock and held my breath waiting for him.
He never came though I waited an hour and listen to tour guide after tour guide traipse though the house. This wallpaper is original to the house. And if you look in the living room you can even see the actual furniture that was here when people still lived . . .