Country Living Inn
15 years 2 months ago #1
by Vacant NJ
Country Living Inn was created by Vacant NJ
Like an unorganized orchestra the sound was sporadic, sharp, and varied in pitch. At first an untrained ear might mistake it as a tripped alarm, but it was quite clear that this was not the case. A quick look around proved that the sound was the cries of dozens of dying smoke detectors, all beeping in conflicting patterns screaming for their batteries to be changed. But with the last janitor having left, I would just have to deal with the smoke detector tune. Luckily, after about thirty minuets my ears began to filter out the nonstop ambient beeping, and only occasionally when a detector went off directly in my ear was I reminded of the beeping orchestra.
It was disturbing to see just how much had been left behind. Each room was packed with personal belongings that clearly told a story of it's past inhabitants. With each door opened it was a new surprise as to what lay inside. Some rooms were heavily decorated and painted, where as others followed a more minimalistic theme. Hair dryers were still plugged into outlets and various medicines and prescriptions were still organized in the proper medical cabinets.
In one room I took a few minuets to thumb through an open photo album I found on the bed. It was quite creepy to be staring at the human in the picture who probably once slept on the very bed I was now sitting on. What would this person think of me just rummaging through their stuff? Or perhaps this person was no longer alive? Exploring room after room was like a secret glimpse into the life of an anonymous individual. Who were these people and where did they go?
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It was disturbing to see just how much had been left behind. Each room was packed with personal belongings that clearly told a story of it's past inhabitants. With each door opened it was a new surprise as to what lay inside. Some rooms were heavily decorated and painted, where as others followed a more minimalistic theme. Hair dryers were still plugged into outlets and various medicines and prescriptions were still organized in the proper medical cabinets.
In one room I took a few minuets to thumb through an open photo album I found on the bed. It was quite creepy to be staring at the human in the picture who probably once slept on the very bed I was now sitting on. What would this person think of me just rummaging through their stuff? Or perhaps this person was no longer alive? Exploring room after room was like a secret glimpse into the life of an anonymous individual. Who were these people and where did they go?
A.
B.
C.
D.
E.
F.
G.
H.
I.
J.
K.
L.
M.
N.
O.
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