...stands an abandoned mansion in a deserted park. Almost forgotten and a bit eerie. A caretaker looks after it and ensures that it does not fall into decay. An ancient housekeeper sometimes airs it out and still enters the bedroom of the baroness with reverence, who died in childbirth about 70 years ago. No one else is allowed to enter this room, and nothing has ever been changed. The furniture in the house is covered with white sheets, and the curtains are drawn. Only a small beam of light shines here and there. The great-grandchildren have renounced the inheritance, and no one wants to buy the villa because it is said to be haunted and the baroness walks there. Some claim to have seen her face at the window or to have heard her weeping. It is rumored that the baroness's death was not a natural one.
At night, eerie veil-like beings are said to float through the park, and in summer, thousands of lights glow over the small lake. That they are fireflies during the wedding flight interests no one. After all, one does not want to spoil the mystique.
The housekeeper places lily of the valley on the baroness's bed every May. A fresh bouquet every day, for in the morning the lily of the valley is always gone.
In front of the bedroom window, jasmine and English roses bloom, which are already ancient and have not been tended to or pruned for a long time. Somehow, they seem to bloom with their last strength. The baroness used to dry them and put them in her trunk.
On the nightstand, there is still a box with the beloved pearl necklace of the baroness. No one dares to touch it, wear it, let alone steal it. It is said that whoever touches the baroness's treasures is possessed by her spirit and condemned to wander the battlements at night.
On the dressing table, there is still a box with cool, dusty powder. When the baroness glides through the halls at night, she always leaves behind a distant cloud of powder.
From a suit of armor, patchouli wafts. Oh no, it’s mice, raising the next generation and their special scent.
Since I've unfortunately developed a bit of a fear of heights over the years, I'll borrow this pearl necklace and happily stroll along the peaks of the beautiful house soon ;-)
Wanderlust trophy!
I have a soft spot for mysterious things. This could also be the plot of a movie. Your description reminds me a bit of **Griseldis** by Hedwig Courths-Mahler, even though the storyline takes a different turn.
What a atmospheric comment! It seems you've rewritten your old one, which I also liked. We both have similar images of this perfume in our minds... the old Gründerzeit villa I described in my comment really existed; I lived across from it for my first 16 years. I can picture it again now.
Wanderlust trophy!