The Closed Study by Talitha Brewer

The room smelt musty, the half smoked pipe lay in the ashtray its bowl still half full of unused tobacco and the stem chewed around the mouth piece.

On the desk lay a type writer with a piece of paper still three quarters in the roller with the rambling words, little punctuation, in the form of an unfinished compaint letter to yet another politician or prominent figure, ranting about yet another injustice against the common man.  A book lay open on the desk its pages yellowed with age and the back broken where it had been flattened to be read, but the characters were not ones that were recognisable.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and festooned the bookshelves that lined the wall of the small cramped study.  However despite the obvious signs of years of neglect this was a room that had been used frequently in the past.  The books lining the shelves were well worn and the pages showing signs of having been well thumbed.  Some were half shoved back into between their fellows others were piled on top half falling of the end of the shelves.  Ornaments also lined the shelves jostling for space amongst the books, however these seemed to follow a nautical theme.

In the corner of the room the gauzy curtain fluttered in the breeze that blew in through the open door. On the floor down by the desk was a small writing wooden writing box.  The leather faded with age but the key was still in the lock with it’s contents on display.  Old letters wrapped in faded ribbon, a quill with the dry ink bottle in the allotted space, unused discoloured writing paper.

Beside the fireplace was a overflowing wastepaper basket, crumpled bits of paper with typewritten words littering the floor.  On the mantelpiece above the brick built hearth was a collection of photographs.  A tall statuesque man in uniform astride his horse, a severe looking woman with her hair dark drawn back in a tight bun.  A young couple in 1920s dress, the young man in naval uniform, obviously looking as though it was their wedding photograph, their smile reflecting their happiness.  There was then another of the young woman standing on a ship holding the hand of a young girl as they waved at someone on the dock, the buildings in the distance looking as though they were Chinese.  In keeping with the Chinese theme ,adorning the walls either side of the hearth were silk wall hangings.  The brilliant colours almost as bright as the day they had been made illustrating life in the far off land hundreds of years ago. 

To one side of one of the wall hangings was a further small shelf.  On it stood another faded sepia photograph, separate from the others.  This one was of the same man, a little older, but this time he stood with a young Chinese woman holding a baby.  Beside the photograph was the minutest pair of Chinese shoes.