Spelunking

Elizabeth had directions at least. She had a good pair of boots. The creek was the easiest to identify, the only one across the old Castle property. Then she found the stone bridge. It was mostly eroded, but enough was still there for Elizabeth to precariously cross the big creek. Then she followed the directions, and there it was. It was unimpressive, certainly not the yawning chasm that Elizabeth had imagined. It was small, but cozy feeling. There was an old cup that must have dated back to the Civil War times. Her ancestors had laid here, Elizabeth realized. And copulated here. She shivered, pulling back on her jacket and heading back to the main property. She'd have to bring Antoine back here to memorialize the past.