Your eyes are shut. All you can hear is the wheezing of your lungs. [[Open your eyes]]...Your eyes open and though the light is dim, it burns for a moment. Then, it changes to amber, shining through the venetian shades in horizontal strips, leaving some of the room in a deep, gold tinted shadow, and other part in dim honeyed light. Dust falls from a gently rotating fan and the air smells musky, like mothballs. The faint smell of cigarettes remains. You can make out the sillouttes of furniture all around you and the beige of an old lightswitch to your right. [[Get out of bed]] [[Look at the furniture]] [[Turn on the light]]Your feet touch a rough, worn carpet. You look down at it and see its stained, tan texture. It smells of musk, old coffee, and beer. Your wheezing becomes more emphasized. [[Look out the window]] [[Walk over to the dresser]] [[Walk over to the desk]]The furniture is dark, and has a cheap mid-70s look to it, with dark varnished wood lining the walls. Its varnish blends seamlessily with the color of the light. [[Look around again]] The lightswitch clicks into place but nothing happens. The lightbulb is dead and judging by the rest of the room, has been for a long time. [[Get out of bed]] [[Look at the furniture]] [[Look around again]] Your eyes open and though the light is dim, it burns for a moment. Then, it changes to amber, shining through the venetian shades in horizontal strips, leaving some of the room in a deep, gold tinted shadow, and other in dim honeyed light. Dust falls from a gently rotating fan and the air smells musky, like mothballs. You can make out the sillouttes of furniture all around you and the beige of an old lightswtitch to your right. [[Get out of bed]] [[Look at the furniture]] [[Turn on the light]]You walk over to the window. It is covered by venetian blinds but you can make out a fall landscape through the slits. [[Open the blinds]] [[Walk back to the bedside]] You trip on your way to the dresser, catching yourself on the edge, knocking a few things off the top in a loud crash. Your foot caught on oxygen tanks. They seem to be attached to some kind of breathing device. Your lungs are burning now and you feel dizzy. [[Look at the dresser]] [[Look at what fell]] [[Walk back to the bedside]] On the desk, you find piles of paperwork, all neatly piled and classified. Pictures adorn the desk of a young couple in their 20s wearing the most 50s outfits you can imagine. A wooden box sits on the table smelling strongly of a thick, suffocating scent. A folding chair sits in front of the desk, scratched and dented. [[Look at the paperwork]] [[Look at the wooden box]] [[Look at the picture]] [[Walk back to the bedside]] You reach for the string and tug on it to raise the blinds, but the mechanism sticks. You pull again, but the blinds stay defiantly closed. [[Walk back to the bedside]] You return to the side of the bed, stepping on something that feel like ash beneath your feet. Old cigarettes lie strewn over the floor, long extinguished. Your lungs hurt and your breathing is heavy and raspy. [[Look out the window]] [[Walk over to the dresser]] [[Walk over to the desk]] [[Go back to bed]]The pile is mostly made up of unpaid bills. No letters except the usual solicitation for donations. [[Walk over to the desk]]A box of cuban cigars. It is still wrapped and unopened and the top of the box is covered in dust. [[Walk over to the desk]] The single picture on the desk of of a young couple. His clothes are classic 50s. Dark suit jacket with differently shaded baggy pants. He looks sharp and professional. The other person is a shorter, brunette lady. Her sleeves are short but blousy. The picture is black and white. [[Walk over to the desk]]You see a single revolver sitting on the dresser. Upon inspection, only one chamber is loaded. [[Walk back to the bedside]] A picture lies on the floor. The frame is cracked but the glass did not shatter. You pick it up. It is of a middle-aged couple in their 40s. Their expressions are dour and sad. [[Look at the dresser]] [[Walk back to the bedside]] You sink back into your covers, shutting out the light when suddenly, you roll onto something rigid and flat. [[Inspect object]]It is a photoframe on the left side of the bed. It is of an old woman. She is half-smiling but her eyes are unhappy. It lies on opposite side from you, braced against the pillow. The frame is warped. Your lungs no longer burn and your eyes slowly close into a warm, amber darkness...