It was a space, although nearly empty, was resonant and echoing with the ghosts of life lived. Heavily wallpapered, with matching drapes, crumbling plaster and fraying wires it heaved with breath. Somebody had lit a fire in the fireplace and for a brief moment the hearth was filled with light, life. I could almost hear the clinking glasses and tinkling laughter of a 1957 cocktail party, women with pearls and black hourglass dresses, children dressed in pajamas and robes laying on their bellies at the top of the stairs peering through the railing to catch a glimpse of arriving guests.
Walking through the cracks in the present into the past, even if just for a fleeting second, oh how it thrills me! Maybe I should be wearing colonial dress and working in a reenactment museum, hmmm…maybe not.