villa giulla

the glass screen seems invisible as i walk in. next to the tomb is a chair attached, becoming part of it.  i wonder who sits here, guarding the dead and breathing in the last remnants of its former lie.  the chair is rigid, heavy and unmoving, locked in with no escape.  he leans back, blends in, earthen skin against the cracks of the clay like water on wrinkles.  there is nothing but the silence of his heartbeat echoing across the hollow walls, barely missing its owner upon its return.  eyes straight, he stares into the blankness, not daring to turn to the great noble beside him.  yet the courage of the body beneath the tomb reeks room within and maybe its the dead guarding the living.