Blog #5

The air was stale, the doors in this room were seldom opened and the air was dank and thin. Currents of air ran in and out of the high window, stirring the air, brushing with icy fingers against the back of my neck. The air settled again filling the space, worming it's way through cracks, like plaster in a mold.
A maze of pipes had subjugated the ceiling. Diseased with rust, black holes lined with red dotted each tube causing the effect of many dark eyes watching me all the time. When the wind blew in through the window it twisted its way into the holes making a low whistling sound. Sometimes when the wind caught the pipes at the right angle, it would cause a warped melody to play with the pipes as the flutes and the air passing through the rust holes. Water, which had used to flow through, was dripping slowly down to the ground. There were small depressions in the ground where water had collected, over years of time. Some were dry, they were blackened and a gray powder sat in the bottom of one along with a few splinters of sticks. A fire had been here a long time ago, but the people had left, and the fire had died out. Since then the sticks had been used to scrawl drawings on the walls. They smudged over time but some were there still faintly.
The room was sparsely decorated. A mirror stood in one corner, the surface was coated with grime, and a thin film of dust covered the surface. The frame was brown; a design had been carved around the edge. The sun was set onto the top over the center of the mirror, and on each side were clouds they were next to the sun but weren’t covering the rays. Along the bottom edge were mountains; birds flew up and down the sides of the frame swooping over the mountains and foothills. It hung form a nail on the wall, the string was fraying, splitting, from rubbing against the nail.
A staircase was set against the wall; a wooden railing had been nailed on the edge. Each step was worn, and had the faint impressions of footprints, but the staircase ended abruptly at the wall. The railing, and the staircase seemed to disappeared behind the wall, the staircase didn’t end at the wall, but it continued behind it.
A high window was set into the wall above me. I could see the sun shining outside, but the light never seemed to reach here. Three bars crossed the frame; they were connected with two running vertical up the window. A crack was starting to grow in one of the bars, it was still faint but smaller cracks were splitting away from the bigger one.
I could see trees outside, giant oak trees, with roots digging deep into the ground reaching for nutrients. There were some trees, which seemed, to have just been planted. Their roots were barely below the surface, and their branches reached with greedy fingers toward the sunlight. In the distance was the ocean, a huge blue mass, hazy in the afternoon light. Between the ocean and me were fields of grass; they ended against he foothills of mountains.
The light slowly faded out of the room, as the sun slowly sank into the ocean.
The night was cloudy, and the moon was hidden, merely a silhouette behind the clouds. I glanced around the room; I could see something moving around in the corner. Its eyes were momentarily visible against the blackness. Shadows danced across the walls, lit by the faint gleam from the moon. Shadows caused by nothing, they prowled across the walls. They were black or pale gray against the walls; some had spikes, some frills, some talons, and some were just people nonchalantly strolling. The eyes flashed in the dark again his time a bit closer, the moon was hidden behind the clouds and al the stars had covered with a thick coating of fog. I couldn’t see a thing, except the ghostly shadows and the eyes in the darkness...

What emotion do you think this piece represents?