As I walk up the attic stairs and enter the doorway, a sense of a ghostly atmosphere sends goosebumps up my arms. When I look in the attic, the glowing rays of the sun through the round window appear to be the only source of light. Instantly, the sun is hitting an old bookcase with dusty shelves. There is a thick layer of dust on the top, as I glide my hand across the smooth surface. To the left of the bookcase is an old picture from the Romanticism era. The texture of the fram is curvy with pointy edges. The intricate spider webs cover my hands as I reveal the title of the picture.
I walk closer to the picture amd hear mice squeaking to their hole in the wall. The scent of the room is musty mixed with mice droppings. As I follow the sound of the mice, I trip over a wire that causes me to notice a table in a corner. The small, round table has a vase of dirty water containing a variety of dead flowers. Taking a step back, I hear the sound of shoe stepping on a dead roach. As I continue to look around, the walls are designed with a lacy theme. Walking out of the attic, I can tell that an elderly lady has stored these items here and never comes back up here.
Powered by Blogger.