The beautiful red bricks of the old castle always enticed him. Were they red forever? Perhaps, the color came gradually, with years gone by. Stains of blood or rust of swords might have painted them, who could say?
He was not the first one to stop by and admire nor was he any different. They all saw, wondered and lost interest after failing to understand the bricks. He shrugged his thoughts and strolled away.
Next morrow, the bricks had a new coating of crimson on them, drenched in tears from last night, left abandoned, and misunderstood yet again.