Shadows Of The Heart
Tommy grunted opening the door a little wider.
Vanadine stepped into a world from the sixties as soon as he entered. Peeling wallpaper was covered in beige, brown and orange in psychedelic patterns. A lampshade, once orange but now grey with dust, hung limply from the ceiling, some of which sagged down as if ready to fall off at any second. The carpet had been used and walked on for so long it was little more than the strands of white plastic that had been used to make it, faded and yellowing newspapers showing through where it had been added as underlay. The entire place stank of mould, mildew, damp, rust and dust with a background odour of chemicals that stabbed into Vanadine’s nose like a
Sikat na Kabanata