The building was deserted, left to rot in nature. The door, once cherry red, was just the same, though the peelings were all shades of a pink that surrendered to the high sun year after year. It would move on its hinges still, but with the weariness of an old man. The windows no longer beckoned light inside, incapable of lifting the gloom that the battered walls imposed. Instead, they added to the growing sense of dampness and darkness and permitted the chill wind to penetrate.
Despite the pitiful state of the entire property, much of its wooden floor was sheltered and remained firm as footprints of various creatures were scattered. Moreover, even though the space was barren, underneath the floor, which had a table and chairs, a map on the wall, and a shelf, was anything but lifeless.
"... Fewer than expected…"
