Let's write "The Missing Boots" together

I drivelled up a few sentences as a template for a possible story.
continue, or edit...give it a minute, have some fun.

The missing Boots

The Proprieter of the Knight’s Head pointed to the grey Cottage. “Go there, we’re full” . Well, on my travels through the irish mist I have learned at least one Thing: Don’t argue with Inn-Keepers. I thanked him with a nod, took up my Sack and stumbled through the cold Night towards the given direction.

From down the Hall the sound of a Cembalo threw tiny pieces of glass against the bare stone walls. The old Lady opened the wooden Door in front of me, handed me the Candle, bowed and left me on the threshold of an icy Night without uttering a word. I stepped into the chamber . A Four-Poster and one rustic chair shared the dim shadows of the flickering candle-light. A few shivering steps took me to the Bed and after a useless attempt to get my boots off, I squeezed myself in between musty smelling covers, closed my eyes and let the day dance its twisted steps once more through my mind.

Beach, Palms and Sunlight. A Lady with ravenblack hair and dressed in white silk bowed in front of me. She was trying to unlace my right shoe. She obviously couldn’t do it. Suddenly she raised her head and I stared into a distorted visage with bloodshot eyes. I screamed, woke up and realized where I was. The Fourposter, the darkness, the island of my Reality. My feet felt like ice. Something had changed. I couldn’t feel my Boots anymore. They were gone…

Guess I'll do what I always do...I play with myself :smilielol5:

Let's see. What about a slightly different Beginning ?
Something like:

I started at an Irish coastal Village and hiked for a few days through the Mist.
At the end of the fourth day I reached The Knight's Head, a small Inn built
out of blackened stones. On the threshold stood a shrivelled up tiny man
who waved me on. "We're full, supper ye, bed ne." He sucked at a clay-pipe
and grinned.
"Where can I find an abode for the night ?" I asked him, shivering in the cold.
He pointed with his pipe towards a grey cottage a few hundred yards down the road.
I sighed a "Thank you" and started to steer my tired legs into the given direction.

The missing Boots:rant:
I started at an Irish coastal Village and hiked for a few days through the Mist.
At the end of the fourth day I reached The Knight's Head, a small Inn built
out of blackened stones. On the threshold stood a shrivelled up tiny man
who waved me on. "We're full, supper ay, bed nay." He sucked at a clay-pipe
and grinned.
"Where can I find an abode for the night ?" I asked him, shivering in the cold.
He pointed with his pipe towards a grey cottage a few hundred yards down the road.
I sighed a "Thank you" and started to steer my tired legs into the given direction.
When I reached the Cottage-Door, heavy Snow began to fall. I knocked my freezing knuckles against the oaken Entrance-Door. From behind the Gate I could discern the hollow sound of a Cembalo, throwing tiny pieces of glass against bare stone walls.An old Lady , holding a candle, opened the wooden Door in front of me. Was she blind,I asked myself ? She seemed to stare right through me, her eyes grey daggers which had lost their danger long ago. She beckoned me to follow her in to a broad staircase and up we went, as silent as fresh snow in an open Churchyard’s grave.
On the first floor, she opened a chamber, handed me her Candle, bowed and left me on the threshold of an icy Night without uttering a single word. I stepped into the darkness . A Four-Poster, a small table in the middle of the room and one rustic chair shared the dim shadows of the flickering flame. I placed the candle on the table, took a few dry matches out of my sack and layed them right beside the burning wax.
Such prepared for the night, I let a few shivering steps took me to Bed and after a useless attempt to get my boots off, I squeezed myself in between musty smelling covers, closed my eyes and let the day dance its twisted steps once more across the crooked tiles of my weary mind.

When I woke up the first time, a Lady with ravenblack hair, dressed in white silk bowed in front of me. She was trying to free me from my right boot. She obviously couldn’t do it. Suddenly she raised her head and I stared into a distorted visage with bloodshot eyes. I screamed, woke up and realized where I was. The Fourposter, the Darkness, Reality ? My feet felt like ice. Something had changed. I couldn’t feel my Boots anymore. They were gone…
Slowly and careful I made my way out of bed. Was there a child crying in a dark corner ? A nasty snigger in another ? I tried to reach the table but it seemed to be gone.Trying hard to be absolutely silent, I circled the chamber, but all to no avail…

In my distress I sat myself down on the floor. Under my left thigh I could distinctly feel an iron circle. Something you’d find forged to a Trapdoor.

Instinctively I pulled and to my surprise, Sesame opened up for me. Two Butterflies landed on my face and streaming sunlight lit up the room. A pair of soft arms drew me down through the opening and when I landed in a gigantic saucer full of Butter-Toffee Crème I knew that it’s time to kiss this little game good-bye…

FIN

I'll take this skeleton and blow it up. (in german)