Read Superstar: Horn OK Please for Free Online Page A

feel to it.
     
    Needless to say, the vast football stadium of a lounge was a breathtakingly beautiful museum of antique art from a long time ago. The adjoining lobby made sure that the lounge had enough fresh air.
     
    Near the fireplace was an old teak side-table adorned by the rich silk tapestry. It would have been really old as the once white fabric was now yellow that it had acquired as it had journeyed across the generations. It depicted a royal wedding.
     
    On one side of the tapestry were the bride and groom busy greeting people followed by a joyous crowd. On the other side of the fabric was a dense jungle with a pack of wolves hunting down a fawn. I found it ominous and evil. The entire place had a strange connection with wolves. We chose to ignore the omen and moved on. 
     
    “Check out the portrait of that evil dude right above the fireplace, bro?” whispered Goose, “I’m sure he would have been the perfect son of a bitch. This place is spooky, I wonder how we’ll spend a month in here”.
     
    I nodded in agreement. I wondered if a day pass to a museum might have been a better idea than spending a month inside one.
     
    The evil man in the painting looked like a mad man’s version of Galileo on weed. Draped in Portuguese attire, there was a red-color cape that looked like fungus and seemed to bloom like poison ivy before withering down to the floor. It resembled Superman’s cape dipped in tomato ketchup.
     
    But unlike Superman, this evil dude didn’t wear his underpants on the outside. However, he had stuffed his loose fitting trousers into his socks and had put small belts with hooks around them. His shoes were exactly the kind my headmistress from high school used to wear, ugly black shoes with shabby buckles. I was scared of her to the core when I was a kid. I still am.
     
    The dude seemed to have a severe attitude problem as he looked down upon us from the portrait, his piercing black eyes made the painting look really evil. He was leaning on some kind of a pedestal that had a clay pot and an urn kept on top of it.
     
    A black, leather diary with a golden buckle in one hand held close to his chest, the evil dude rested the other hand on the pedestal. The background of the painting was black. It must have been a reflection of the artist’s mood when he painted the man.
     
    “Jeremy says it is Jenny’s great grandpa. Come, let’s go, this ol’ man has something obnoxious about him”, I said as we walked towards a passage that led to another part of the mansion.
     
    The passage to the annexure, which was probably built later than the lounge, led to a library stacked with old, musky books from a long time ago. There were neatly bound books stacked wall to wall, roof to floor on all four corners.
     
    A big wooden stool was kept in the center to access the books on the top shelves. “These must be the secret recipe books for toothpick Nanny”, said Goose. I gulped and nodded in agreement.
     
    There were books that covered a gamut of topics. The topmost section had books on gardening, origami, charcoal painting and so on. It seemed to have been put together by an aesthete. The middle section had books on various religions and civilizations that flourished across the world.
    It had books on the Mayans, the Incas and the Harappans. There were books on Egyptian, Roman and Greek mythologies as well. The section seemed to have been tastefully decorated by a theologian.
     
    The last section had books on travel mainly authored by Hiuen Tsang. There were books on unexplored places and some trekking adventures in the Himalayas. This section belonged to a really ancient road hog.
     
    We concluded that whoever would have bought these books would have been a polymath. My respect for the person grew manifold as I quickly noted down a few names to be added in my ‘to read’ list.
     
    The other end of the passage led to the Crystal Room, which was the dining area, followed by the green house,