Writing+Workshop

//**Writing Workshop**//

I stepped into the musty room and quietly looked around. The lemony yellow paint was peeling off the walls in strips and bubbles exposing the grayish wall beneath. The battered, rough, deep brown wood floors were stained in several places with rust-colored smears. They looked like old blood. Dust webs floated in the air, attached to the ceiling and fixtures somewhere in the shadows above my head. There was another door that was rattling on the other side of the room, cracked open a few inches, but I couldn’t see what was beyond it.