The post half visible through the door table top was overgrown by books. On top of the stacks was an open one. There were some chairs and an armchair, near a fireplace. The vale rug with geometric shapes were to the threshold.I walked further. Steep stairs led upwards; many steps were worn. The sides were lighter in hue; bleached by the light. There were still rings for a stair runner. Under the stairs was a closet. In the keyhole was a key. It took me bother him not to open.Now I was standing in a portal, the announcement of a new departure. The air there was dank, a faint smell of cigar smoke.
Wordt vertaald, even geduld aub..
