M 2003-01-10

the room is cold and dark, with bare floorboards and dull wallpaper with vertical stripes. a rough, dark wooden table stands against one wall, and a dirty plate with a few crumbs of food on the table. there is an iron fireplace with cold ashes in the grate. the windows are closed but a slight breeze is blowing through gaps and making the tattered curtains billow slightly. it smells like it might be raining a little outside.

at first the trees are tall and bright, limbs swaying and leaves rustling with the wind. as i progress into the forest, they become smaller and more stark, with tangled branches, bare of leaves. they no longer dance with the wind, but seem to hunch down as if to avoid the worst of the cold breeze. i can't hear the rustling of leaves any more, only a dry rasping sound of wood on wood.

Note that the trees started out tall and strong, suggesting that the adults influenced the subject early on but quickly lost the ability to make a difference.

at first the path was wide and grassy, clearly visible and well-trodden. deeper into the woods, banks rose on either side, and occasional trails led off from the main path. it became narrower and more overgrown, much harder to follow.

Note that the trail degrades as it progresses, suggesting that the later years of the subject’s life were not easy.

there is a narrow rocky stream, the water clear and icy cold as it rushes over the stones. it makes a cheerful sound.

a plain handle-less earthenware cup, reddish in color with no markings.

a yale door key, unremarkable in any way. it's probably a key to someone's front door, but I'm not really interested in who or where.

Note the disinterest in finding out the details of the key, suggesting a rather lackadaisical approach to work.