This is the very first post written and created entirely within our attic guest room.
A grandfather clock ticks to my left, its pendulum swaying back in motion after years of rest.
Fringed lamps glow in all corners, brightening an otherwise dreary day.
It falls heavily on the roof, but the sound is soothing, muffled. A gentle drone, perfect for sleep or contemplation. The ultimate din of background ambient noise to cure anyone’s insomnia.
Here, I sit on a newly-made bed and type out these words.
Even the bright glow of the lap-top is too harsh for these soft environs, and I lower the brightness until it reaches a pleasing level.
On rainy nights, and Tuesday mornings, that’s the best we can do.
