My grandfathers garden was my fairy tale place. I would walk out there with his praying mantis on my shoulder and pretend I was hunting monsters. At the very bottom of the slope was a stone staircase, old and broken and crumbling.... as was most of Pittsburgh. One summer I cleaned all the growth of it and walked up and there at the side of his giant hill was a hidden stone doorway. I kid you not, but that new place became the reason I was alive. haha. You never know what you would find if you dug enough out there.
(pic is my version of Madame Sherri’s ruins)