Evening.....

[lace]

High on the balcony, the light began to fade and the air grew cold. The last glow of the sun lingered on the curled leaves, rusting the twilight canopy. He sat above it, exposed to the movements of the sky, his face held to the wind - a proud, forgotton king.....proud and forgotton. How many years had past? How many summers had gorged themselves into autumn? How many bleak moonlight skies had witnessed him, alone in this self-imposed exile. More than stone surrounded him now, more than stone.