From the bedroom I descended into a large partially finished basement. Here in found old tools, disheveled clothing, more Xmas décor and discarded clutter bathed in rays of seemingly mystical winter sunshine. Time appeared to stand still as I walked among the refuse and disorder. Scenes of old writing implements scatted across a filthy cabinet, cleaning supplies crowded together on ramshackle furnishings, broken tools of indeterminate use hanging from wooden walls. In another area were photographs of children with coifed 70’s hairstyles hanging below ductwork next to a fading botanical print. Looking around I saw more scatted holiday décor, Including a large plastic Santa face, a large print of a child washing doll clothes and boxes brimming with Xmas plush animals their reds and greens glowing in the rays of December sunlight passing through filth covered windows. The more time I spent in this subterranean wonderland I began to wonder if my feverish mind was playing tricks on me. After examining an old charred decorative plate that once carried the supposed likeness of a 19th century grandmother for much longer than I should have I decided to go back upstairs.
Images of children and plants on basement wall.
Garden tools in a dim basement.
Plate with burned image of a grandmother.