The door of the room is made of a solid wood grain, and lies on my second floor along with three others. The dimensions extend about six and a half feet high, less than a foot away from the ceiling. While open, angled at ninety degrees, the door leans slightly against the wall to the right. The length fits in-between the bookcase and the corner of the room perfectly, as if it were the perfect piece to a large puzzle. A polished, light-brown paint covers the exterior. The dark-gray doorknob appears like the color of fresh clay from a river bed. The door is also laminated, appearing like a glazed doughnut fresh from the bakery. The frame, also glazed in this light brown finish, matches the color of the door perfectly.
A bookcase, made of a smooth hard wooden material, tilts slightly against the coarse textured wall. The length, almost six feet wide, extends from the edge of the open door to the entry way of the adjacent closet. The shelves are packed with several old books, which have been covered in a fine layer of dust. A small model of a unique roman pillar lies centered on the very top surface of the fine wooden bookcase. On either side of the pillar, two small pots are precisely set in place. Both of them filled with artificial flowers that beautify the surface.
Above the bookcase, a large, gold-framed painting is propped against the textured wall. The frame is intricately detailed with swirls of vine leaves and grapes. The rich black and red oil painting of a harbor filled with ships, embellishes the well lit room; its murky colors contrast against the cream-colored wall surface. The size of the painting extends slightly over half the length of the bookcase and leaves only a foot of space in between it and the ceiling. One solitary nail intensely braces the frame and painting in place, as gravity constantly pulls it toward the ground like a three hundred pound man dangling from a cliff by one finger.
A small closet lies on...