There’s an old room in our house that’s basically doing nothing but accumulating age. It used to be my parents room, but then they moved to a bigger one down the hall. The room transformed into my playroom as a child, but then I grew up and used it only to store my old toys and books. When WAGW first started, the room was used to store new stocks, but WAGW has since expanded, and needed to move into a bigger space. Now this quiet little shack is empty. The doors creek when you enter, and the dust on the floors have replaced the once shiny varnish that protected it. The lights on the ceiling flicker when turned on, and the lack of ventilation causes a huge wave of heat to surround the entire room.

I don’t even remember when I last came in this room before I did last night. I don’t even know what prompted me to check up on it. To be honest, I was a bit creeped out when I went in (door squeaking and all.) I was terrified to take a photo at first, scared that there might be something else in the picture when I look at it. But I guess the memories I used to have in the room surrounded my apprehensions and made me go through with it…or maybe it’s my vanity, and wanting to take a pretty cool shot of myself clothed in lace and florals in an abandoned room. Teehee. Something tells me its the later of the two that came to mind.