Tomas closed the door to the little room that he occupied in the infirmary. The room was eerie and dark and it had thick webs at the corners of the walls -- the kind that would make one wonder if anyone lived there. The windows were supposed to be glass and transparent but the ones in Tomas's room were different -- they were glass, yes but the dirt accumulated over the years made them look whitish and immensely opaque.
He walked to where the fireplace was and kicked a burnt wood that lay on the front of the place. The fireplace was filled with black burnt wood that should have been thrown out long ago. Now, it poured to the front of the fireplace, hindering him whenever he wants to produce some light and warmth.
