Looking down the long hall, I could see the light streaming through the paned sidelights. There was dust in the beams of light which filtered the light and created a blinding haze. Paint fumes filled the air, hanging on to each breath I took. In the background, the "Rumors" LP played on the turntable with very little hiss and pop.

I turned the corner and sat on the bed. The harvest gold color my parents were painting my room intrigued me and suddenly I felt the sharp pierce of a tack on my thigh.