So, there I was, minding my own business at 0600 (6:00AM for those who don’t do 24-hour clocks), and poking around the Toompea in Tallinn. The fortress has roots that go back to the 1000s, probably earlier, but definitely the 1000s. Like many medieval things, it sort of growed over time, between the Estonians, Teutonic Knights, German merchants, Russians, and others. I was poking my nose into unlocked corners, and beheld two guys doing selfies [yawn] perched on a wall [don’t want to see what’s fixin’ to happen!]* and a ghostly monk.

Which turned out to be a larger-than-life statue, one of three.

I didn’t find anything about what the statues were doing there, aside from spooking tourists. Which led to a story idea.

“Th- This isn’t the monastery!”

“Uh, uh, you tell them!”

Kaja froze as two young men burst out of the bastion gate. They races past as if chased by Vikings—or Communists. One held a phone on a tripod. The pair turned north, almost slipping on the mist-damp cobbles, and disappeared around the corner. Kaja curtsied a little toward the gateway and continued on her way. Spirits did not put food on the table, at least not that kind of spirit.

What came to your mind when you saw the photo? What would you do with it?

*Since there was nothing in the news later that day, and I didn’t hear ambulance and police sounds as I descended the hill, they didn’t fall off the wall and plummet fifty feet or so. I’m glad.